


Secrets Aren't for Keeping

by chimaeracabra



Category: Captain America (Movies), the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 100,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OFC finds that Steve is keeping secrets from her while his best friend is altogether suspicious, and maybe even dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There was some random crap brewing in my head over the past few weeks. Now I FINALLY have a chance to try and write it. I'm leaving the summary vague on purpose.

            He'd have usually been home by now, or at least called on the phone. Steve isn't much of a texter. Altogether, he hates cellular phones. She is awoken from sleep by the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. Her eyes open long enough to notice that the light is on before Steve closes the door as quietly and quickly as he can; he had tried not to wake her. Cherise glances at the digital clock in the dark. It's 1:30 in the morning. To the best of her knowledge, he's taking a vacation. He shouldn't have been out so late, but she already knew when he wasn't home by seven that he must have been on a mission. She stumbles into her slippers and shuffles out of the bedroom to the bathroom outside in the hall. She can hear him sigh before the sink starts to run. Her hand makes contact with the doorknob, before she decides it's best to give him a minute. She walks to the staircase and stares down it to catch the glare of the moon outside shining upon a familiar, round, metal object at the bottom.

            She descends quietly down the hardwood steps to pick up the shield. It's cold, so cold that she can tell it was only mere moments ago that Steve held it outside in the frigid breath of winter's night. She thinks to move it against the wall by the door, so it won't be a tripping hazard. But when she angles towards the front door, something is kicked across the floor a ways by her feet. She makes out the unsettling shape of a handgun as it slows to a stop across the hardwood. Steve didn't use guns much, to the best of her knowledge. She'd never really seen him shoot. Most of his defenses involved the shield, or his very hands, which on their own were just as lethal. Her eyes never leave the object in the darkness as she settles the shield against the wall. She stares at the gun a moment longer, hearing the shower run upstairs, before grabbing it off the floor. She carries it to the kitchen and stows it in a drawer where the only other objects are a notepad from a Marriott and a matching pen.

            A moment passes in which she can't stop staring at the notepad. It was the first vacation she'd taken in years that summer. It wasn't _really_ a vacation, to be proper, but more so her attempt to get Steve to take time off between working missions of his own. He'd made it his duty to find Bucky, and to track down and bring to justice anybody who was in any way involved with his abduction and brainwashing those many decades ago. So far, there were twenty other assassins dead or in jail who were in cahoots with HYDRA. If Cherise didn’t know any better, she was the only one in a relationship at this point. She had already booked the trip prior to Steve realizing that Bucky still existed, and couldn't cancel the arrangements she'd made with the hotel. She'd gone alone while Steve was on his mission to get his friend back. They'd had a pretty explosive fight prior to her getaway, as well, when she told him Bucky would just have been a lost cause. She'd thought he couldn't possibly have been the same man Steve knew in the 40s. If he was still Steve's best friend, why would he have tried to kill him? It came to her as a complete surprise when Steve _actually_ proposed a few weeks ago, the day after Thanksgiving. She glances at the ring she hadn't taken off even to go to bed, and it reassures her that everything is fine.

            But as she ascends the steps again, she can't help wondering why Steve would tell her he was on vacation, and then be working all the time. She'd just put in her time off from working in forensics at the police department. Christmas is in three days, and she hasn't yet decorated the tree that Steve promised to help her with that night, and the previous night, and the previous night. He'd been going in for Sam and Natasha at what seemed like random. Usually, she knew he was checking in on Barnes, who was still in a state of recovery from everything he'd been through. She had yet to actually meet him. In truth, she'd been _afraid_ to. Natasha's stories about the Winter Soldier had made her wary of Barnes altogether.

            At the same time, Cherise could see how much it meant to the Captain, whenever he'd talk about Bucky, memories from his childhood. With all she'd lost in her past, she couldn't take away from her fiancé a chance to reacquaint himself with one of the few people who really ever understood him. And she knows that the Captain would _never_ let anything happen to her. So far as she knew, he loved her, and would do anything in his power to make her feel safe. Nobody could possibly hurt her and get away with it. She saunters to the sink for a glass of water. Snow is falling silently outside the kitchen window. She hopes they will be buried in the following morning, so that Steve will be forced to stay home and relax.

            When Cherise makes her way back up the stairs, she pauses at the bathroom door to listen. The shower has stopped running. The sink is on. She turns the handle slowly and a billow of steam hits her warmly in the face. Steve never even turns to see her come in as he brushes his teeth. She walks right up behind him and wraps her arms about him. His flesh is hot and damp from the shower as she presses her face into his shoulder. His chest expands in an inhale. Turning her nose against the Captain's spine, Cherise drinks him in. He runs the brush under the sink, spitting and cupping mouthfuls of water in his large hands, swishing the paste away. She bathes herself in the man, the towel around his waist just beginning to slip.

            "What are you doing up?" he asks calmly, readjusting the towel with one hand. He hasn't sounded this tired before. Cherise lifts her cheek from his back and stares at the side of his face, where an icy eye has turned to gaze upon her.

            "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," he says genuinely. She simply admires his body, kneading her knuckles into his warm shoulders as he pulls open the mirror cabinet for the Advil. She hadn't ever seen him take one before.

            "You okay?" she asks.

She can just barely see his face in the steamed over mirror as he closes the cabinet after popping four caplets. He doesn't answer her, and instead runs the sink again to wash down the medicine with a handful of water.

            "I'm sorry I woke you up," he says, turning to face her at last. His hand finds her waist habitually and he kisses her lingeringly on the forehead before starting out of the bathroom. She stands there a moment, perplexed. She hates it when he doesn't tell her what's on his mind. He does it a lot these days, especially since finding Bucky. She can't help feeling that he's keeping things from her. She twists the band on her ring finger absently, staring at the diamond. Steve appears in the doorway again.

            "You coming to bed?" he asks, knowing she'd been cold sleeping without him. Turning up the heat just wasn't the same as having his strong arms wrapped around her at night, and it seemed not to matter how many blankets she piled on their bed; a warm body simply didn't compare. She wasn't going to pay for heating when she could just secure herself to Steve's frame and drift off to sleep.

            "You didn't call. You didn't tell me you were going on another mission," she explains. Steve looks past her stolidly .

            "Things have been…coming up. It's hard to just let Nat or Sam go alone. We're better as a team." Steve looks at her, knowing his explanation doesn't appease her.

            "Cher, I promise we'll spend Christmas together. Just like we've been planning," he says with a small grin.

            "I _promise_ ," he says again. She starts out of the bathroom with crossed arms, past Steve, even after his hand rests on her back warmly. She hears him sigh on her way back to the bedroom. She makes herself comfortable facing the wall, and it isn't long before Steve climbs in behind her and pulls her into a warm hold.

            "Bucky's been doing much better. He's probably ready to be…a real person again. I've gotta stick by him, Cher. I've come too far to lose him again."

His lips are warm on her shoulder and she finds his hand in the dark and holds it.

            "Are you _actually_ going to be home tomorrow? …You're not on vacation if you're working every day."

He kisses her shoulder some more, and she forgets her question, rolling her head back and moaning quietly. Steve's left arm slides under her ribs and she finds herself completely wrapped. He needn't have spoken again to keep her satisfied.

            "If no one else needs me," he says quietly. She falls asleep from being so comfortable, unable to focus on her interrogation any longer.

 

            It's a pleasant surprise when Cherise awakens to find that Steve is still holding her. His breaths are even and rhythmic behind her; he's asleep. She thinks about getting up just to make him breakfast. She hadn't had a chance to ask him how the mission had gone, whatever it was. But she doesn't doubt that he'd gotten hurt just a little bit. He seemed exhausted when she looked at him several hours ago. Slowly, she sits up, peeling his arm from across her waist and sneaking out of bed to go start the coffee maker. She makes the batter for pancakes when the bell rings. She glances at the clock. It's just about noon. She can't recall having made any plans or to be expecting anyone. She makes it to the door in her pajamas, and pulls the door wide open without checking to see who's there.

            Natasha stands there looking almost surprised to see Cherise in her pajamas, as if she didn't know whose doorbell she'd been ringing. Cherise knew the redhead enough to call her a friend, but they weren't exactly that, either. They'd merely spoken a number of times, and Cherise had, confidentially, handed over evidence to Natasha concerning a few missions that just so happened to coincide with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past.

            "Nat. What are you doing here?"

Cherise's gaze fixes on two golden bags in Natasha's hands.

            "I forgot to give these to Steve yesterday. They're for the two of you," she says. The redhead's lip is busted, and a black bruise is forming on her temple, but she smiles nonetheless.

            "Oh. That's too sweet of you. God, you look like you had a rough night."

She takes a step back to let Natasha over the threshold. She spots Steve's shield against the door.

            "I guess you could say that." Natasha cocks a brow a moment.

            "Is he here?"

            "Steve? He's sleeping."

            "Okay, well I won't interrupt. I just wanted to drop these off before I forgot. I'm headed overseas for a while and I'm not entirely sure when I'll be back, but I'm definitely going to miss Christmas."

            "Thanks. What for?" Cherise asks, trying her best not to sound suspicious as she brings the bags to the tree. She places them beside it.

            "Nothing. Just to pay Fury a visit…Well, let Steve know I dropped by. Merry Christmas."

Natasha lets herself out without waiting for a response. Cherise watches her drive away before peering into the bags. All she finds are Yankee Candles, and for some reason, she doesn't think Natasha wanted to stop by just to drop off some candles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual situations coming in now.

            Cherise spends some time staring out the window, even after Natasha had driven off. She migrates towards the front door to go and get her phone out of her purse, where it hung on the coat rack. She resumes her spot in front of the window. Once the device turns on, she makes an effort to text Natasha to thank her for the gifts, promising she'll try to wait until Christmas day to open them. Right as her thumb hits send, something encloses around her from behind. She gasps, having been caught straight off guard. The Captain steadies her frame from behind, humming pleasantly with closed lips against the top of her head. She hadn't even heard him trek down the stairs; he was big, but could move with the stealth of a feline.

            "God, you scared me, Steve."

            "Sorry…Who was that?" he asks, pawing into her hips with the tips of his fingers. She pulls her hand up through his hair from behind, closing the curtains with the other.

            "What? No one."

            "Are you sure? I thought I heard someone ringing the bell."

She couldn't keep much from him. Cherise gazes towards the bags hidden beneath the tree. They aren't so much hidden as half-visible. Steve's gaze follows hers, and she can tell from the way that his head turns in her palm.

            "You went shopping already?" he asks, "Trying to keep things hidden from me, aren't you?" he says slyly, pulling her tighter. Cherise laughs a moment, sinking against his shirtless frame and sighing.

            "You made me breakfast, too?" he asks between kisses on her neck. Cherise only sighs more and more, leaning further back distractedly. Steve lingers beneath her ear.

            "Are you sure the bell didn't ring?" he asks again.

            "You were dreaming. I was just trying to hide these gifts. But you caught me, big guy," Cherise lies. She can't exactly figure out why she'd lied about something so simple. Natasha only stopped by for no more than a minute. Then she reasons that she lied because she doesn't want to remind Steve about work, so he'll go running off to do more of it. She was enjoying the way he cradled her in his arms so securely, didn’t want the feeling to subside so soon. A strong arm reaches past her and peels open the curtain. She begins to wonder whether Steve had stood at the top of the stairwell watching her once Natasha left.

            "We get any mail today?" he asks, coming around to face her at last.

            "Oh, I dunno. I haven’t checked yet."

He grins, eying her lace trim tank top before cupping her face in both hands and moving in for the kill. Cherise smiles shyly and turns her face to the side.

            "I haven't even brushed my teeth or showered yet," she says, gripping the Captain's wrists. He smiles.

            "Am I not allowed to kiss my wife whenever I want to?"

She leans against his chest and places a careful kiss on his cheek.

            "Of course you are, Captain Rogers."

Steve rolls his eyes playfully.

            "That's not the kind of kiss I wanted," he says, cocking a brow. Her heart pounds at a rate that still gets her nervous every time. At last, Cherise acquiesces. Everything about the Captain is so warm. It wasn't like she'd never been close to a man before, but the Captain's warmth is overpowering, the kind that's so comfortable, you could fall asleep in it fast if you aren't careful. She thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that Steve was special. His strength was clearly an entire level above just any other man's.

            "Let's eat breakfast, before it gets cold. I haven't finished the pancakes."

She leads him by the hand to the kitchen. Steve follows her happily and makes himself comfortable at the kitchen table. He watches Cherise finish the pancakes. She catches him staring and laughs.

            "Steve, what is it?"

            "Don't take any offense, but I like watching you cook."

Cherise laughs, fixing Steve's plate and bringing it to him. His hair is touseled from bed, and she hones in on his arms a moment, crossed over his chest in a satisfactory manner. She turns her back for only a second before he grabs her waist and pulls her straight into his lap. Her eyes widen in surprise a moment before she relaxes.

            "I promise I won't be working again until after the new year," he says, tucking hair behind her ear.

            "It's just you and me now, Cher…we'll decorate the tree today, maybe go out to dinner, if you want to, and I want you to finally meet Bucky."

Her heart beats fast again, like it had in the den only moments prior. But it isn’t Steve who's making her heart race, it's the thought of shaking The Winter Soldier's hand, seeing him in person.

            "He's been much better these days, and I helped him get out of rehab and into an apartment. Now he's looking for a job, and I'd really like to keep him as close as I can." He plays with her hair, and she stares into this faraway longing look in his eyes. It seems almost as if he's not really looking at her.

            "It doesn't feel like it used to…our friendship. But that's just because there's a lot he doesn't remember still. I'd like to get him to remember as much as possible, you know? He's really family to me. A brother."

Cherise nods knowingly before kissing Steve's forehead, smoothing his hair.

            "And I want him to be my best man at our wedding."

She pauses, unsure whether to admit to Steve how much of a bad idea she thinks this is.

            "But I've gotta really foster that old friendship we had before I can get the guts to ask him."

She kisses his head a final time before grinning down at him.

            "What about you, Cher? Have you asked any of your broads if they'll be your bridesmaids."

Cherise laughs, nodding. She loved that his slang wasn't always quite so contemporary.

            "I meant, _girlfriends_ ," he says, correcting himself.

            "Steve, I love you," she says, catching her breath.

            "Well, I should _hope_ so. You're gonna be Mrs. Rogers pretty soon."

            "Eat your breakfast," she says, slipping out of his lap to go and make him a cup of coffee, so that she can face the wall and hide the uneasiness in her expression.

            "Yes _ma'am_."

How could Steve possibly think that Bucky would be mentally sound enough to handle a wedding, real life? All he knew was torture and pain. Cherise tries not to think too much about it.

            "So, I was thinking maybe we could invite Sam over for Christmas, have a little dinner. It would be a great chance for Bucky to feel like he's really got a family around."

Cherise pours the mug an inch too high and the hot water runs over, scalding her fingers. She gasps and curses, pulling her hand back and managing to drop the mug right in front of her feet, where it smashes on the tiled floor. The sound of Steve's fork dropping against the plate catches Cherise's ear. He's gripping her hand under cold water at the sink, the next thing she knows.

            "Cher?"

She ignores the Captain's voice and stares out the window at the frozen street, picturing the bullet scar Natasha had shown her just a month prior, the redhead's fondest memory of Bucky Barnes. Steve pulls Cherise's shoulder and she looks at him.

            "Are you alright?" His face is full of concern. She had burned herself pretty badly.

            "Steve," she breathes.

            "Honey, you've gotta be more careful."

She nods and takes a look at her scalded skin.

            "It'll heal," she says.

            "You seem…distracted. What are you thinking about?" he asks, pulling his hands slowly down her torso a number of times while Cherise contemplates her response.

            "Nothing. I just want this Christmas to be perfect. I guess I'm just stressed out."

Steve kisses her forehead a long moment, and she closes her eyes, calms down a bit.

            "Well, don't be. I'm gonna take good care of you…I can't wait for you to meet Bucky."

Her heart races yet again. She wishes Steve would stop talking about The Winter Soldier as if he were no big deal.

            "I took him out for a beer the other night, told him I was engaged. He said he was happy for me."

            "That's nice," Cherise whispers absently. She just knows she doesn't want to be anywhere near the assassin. She also knows that Steve isn't going to shut up about him until they meet.

            "Let me clean this up." Steve picks up the broken pieces of porcelain and throws them in the trash, lamenting as he opens the kitchen closet for the mop, that it had been his favourite mug, and it was too bad she had dropped it. She thinks about buying him one just like it for Christmas, and realizes she's going to have to come clean about trying to hide those gifts when he realizes there's a card in his bag signed by Natasha.

 

            Come Christmas Eve, Cherise had begun to clean the house, handing the Captain the shopping list for the following night. She was going to make _a lot_ of food. She knew how much Steve alone could eat, but paired with Sam Wilson and Bucky, she knew she'd have to make three times as much. Steve had stowed away everything that needed to be refrigerated and frozen before making his way up the freshly mopped stairs to find Cherise toweling her hair dry from the shower. He leans in the doorway in his formfitting long sleeved shirt, wearing a grin that Cherise knew all too well. Her skin flashes hot a moment.

            "Did you get everything I put on that list?" she asks, gravitating towards the dresser for something comfortable to wear.

            "Come on, Cher. I might be old, but I know how to shop," he says jokingly. She stifles a laugh.

            "If you go down to the kitchen right now, I guarantee you'll find _everything_ you're looking for."

            "Thanks, babe," she says, trying to decide what shirt to wear. She gasps when Steve picks her up off the floor. Again, she hadn't heard him get any closer. She loved it and she hated it when he did that. She'd always get shocked and her blood would freeze in that fight or flight moment, before she'd relax into his soothing grip and just let go. He carries her right to bed. His lips make contact with her kneecap, and she lies back to watch his hands circle her calf. Steve is an attentive lover, and despite never having been one before Cherise, seemed to know exactly how to touch her to make her forget whatever it was she was doing, whatever it was bothering her that day, and let it all go. Steve cups her ankle and starts kissing from the bottom of her shin up, slowly, tantalizingly. Cherise arches her back and moans, lifting to reach for Steve's head, and his eyes open to meet hers as he continues up past her knee. She peels the towel back and allows the Captain to feast his eyes on her supple skin, the flesh somewhat reddened from the recency of a hot shower.

            The Captain makes his way up to her stomach, lingering at her navel. He barely sucks upon Cherise's clavicle before she sits up and begins to yank the shirt from over his head, struggling with his belt next. He watches her with anticipation, and seemed not nearly as innocent as he had been when they met. She pauses a moment, searching his eyes for any trace of that greenness, and can't find it there. There wasn't much she had to teach him about sex; it seemed to come quite naturally to him, as it should have. He was still a man, after all. He was always very gentle in the way he touched her. She needn't have asked whether he feared his own strength against her when they got this close. She'd had the kind of guy that liked to be rough with her before, but none of them were Steve, none of them _nearly_ as strong. And despite this, she'd never known a gentler lover.

            The Captain's lips are full and satisfying, everywhere he touches them to her skin. He seemed to like kissing her all over and seeing her reaction. He'd do it until her legs began to quiver, she needed him so badly. He was also very patient, unlike any men Cherise had been with before. The Captain took his dear, sweet time, running his hands up her stomach and over her breasts, teasing them with his thumbs, running those strong hands back down to her waist, squeezing the thighs just right, neither too gently, nor to an extent that would make Cherise uncomfortable. He had her body singing before even mounting her. Cherise trembles with a shiver, but she's not in the least bit cold. He lies gently on her, shifted to one side to taste her lips.

            Cherise never knew a man that liked to kiss nearly as much as Steve. Their first few kisses were awkward, but he had quickly gotten the hang of it. His tongue was no longer untrained and shy, but domineering and desperate. He kisses her for a good five minutes before angling himself between her legs, and she gasps again, clinging to Steve's middle, digging her nails into his back. He lets up just a little to ask her in his velvety voice whether she's okay. She responds by twisting her hips up beneath him needfully. He never quite loses control during, something Cherise noted a number of times. He's always hesitant to be as quick and as caveman as she sometimes _wants_ him to be. He'd usually just let her get on top and watch, spellbound at the way that Cherise would grind on him, hard, almost as if she were trying to hurt herself. But Steve figured so long as she's moaning, she's just fine.

            Sometimes it drove her crazy how gentle he was, and she often wondered whether the Captain did this on purpose just to get her going. Steve's arm trembles a moment where he holds himself above her, and she watches his eyes close pleasurably a handful of seconds, and he pauses to revel in the squeeze of her body around him. He seemed to be paying so much more attention to her than he ever had, since finding Bucky. She thinks he must have been happier to have his friend back. He sways his hips like a smooth wave between Cherise's open thighs, slamming a bit at the very end; he responds to the way she pushes her hips up against him. Cherise sighs in ecstasy, cupping Steve's face. He's golden and blue and she revels in the magnificence of his body, running a hand up the length of his arm, touching his shoulders, his chest, anything within her reach. He continues at this pace, and it's not too tantalizing this time. Steve inhales, and she smells like something floral or sweet, and it makes him harder. She traces his lips, those full, kissable lips, and Steve grins. She blushes, pulling her arms around his neck. His chest makes contact with Cherise's and he relaxes a bit more, allowing more of his weight on her.

            "I love you," she breathes into his neck. He moans and threads his fingers into hers. She liked the sound of Steve moaning. It was so liberated when she thought about the timid way he used to talk to her. Some agent who used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. had introduced them, and Cherise closes her eyes to drift back into the past a moment. She could tell almost immediately that Steve liked looking at her. There was something so shy about him, she wondered whether he'd had much experience talking to women. It took him an entire three weeks to ask her out. She smiles. Steve pauses to lift her up so that he's sitting atop the quilt. He'd moved to let her take control. She's much rougher than he had been, feeling that familiar pressure build up inside, until she felt that she was going to burst. Steve's face had gotten redder, but Cherise notes that he has barely worked up a sweat when she rests her hands on his shoulders, propelling herself into orgasm with the Captain. Her legs tremble as they ride the moment out.

            Gripping his head in her hands, Cherise gives in completely. He breathes heavily into her throat, kissing her there as they catch their breath. It was perfect. She didn't want it to stop. Steve continues to moan into her skin, rubbing her back with those big hands. It seemed he left a trail of fire everywhere he touched her, a fire that wouldn't go out. Steve runs his hands up and down her spine, and she wilts on him, spent, resting her head on his shoulder. They sat this way for quite a while, just touching each other, breathing. It seemed to have become their routine after the deed. Steve seemed not to want to let her go, and she wouldn't have wanted him to…

 

            When the doorbell rings, Steve is still down in the basement getting extra chairs for the dining room table. Cherise goes to answer and finds Sam Wilson waiting in the rain. She smiles after peering through the peephole. Sam was funny, and had become one of Steve's best friends. She can't help wondering why Steve hadn't specifically asked Sam to be his best man. In her mind, Steve didn't know this new Bucky. How could they really be close enough yet for him to be the best man? Cherise pulls the door open and waves Sam inside, hating that Christmas day is dreary and rainy. She first notices the bottle of Merlot in Sam's hand before she recognizes the complete stranger that trails in after him. It doesn't take her more than a second to figure out that this stranger is James Buchanan Barnes; something shiny catches her eye, and then she fixes on it knowingly. His entire arm is made of metal. She doesn't even hear Sam asking how she's been, it's been a long time since he last saw her. She barely responds to his hug while staring at that metal limb.

            Steve makes his way up the basement stairs, and at last, she focuses on Bucky's face. He's looking right at her. She can't decide what his gaze is trying to say, but it quickly makes her feel uneasy, and the blue eyes dart away almost as uncomfortably as she feels. But his stature says otherwise. His stature says menacing. He looks the type of strong as if he could have simply slapped her in the face if he'd wanted her dead. If he'd wanted to kill her, he looked the kind of strong where he could have done something _that_ simple to do it. He's not wearing a coat, and she wonders whether he's cold as he shoves his hand into the pocket of his brown trousers, almost as if this motion would have caused Cherise not to notice that his _entire_ arm is made of metal. She notices then that he _is_ wearing a coat, but it's got a hole on the side that fits his metallic limb. The coat must not have been big enough to suit even the bicep.

            Bucky keeps his gaze on the lit tree in the adjoining room as Steve greets the two of them. She notices a few bags in his right hand, the one that's still human. He's clutching them so hard that his knuckles have become a pale white. Cherise wonders whether this hand is as strong as the bionic one.

            "Bucky," Steve says, cupping his metal shoulder. Bucky turns to look at Steve and grins, and suddenly, he looks a lot less intimidating. He then smiles with teeth.

            "Steve," he says. His voice is unwavering, and not as threatening as he looks. She relaxes a little bit. The men hug and she relaxes a little bit more.

            "This," Steve begins, turning Bucky to face Cherise, "Is my wife, Cherise. She was in forensics with S.H.E.I.L.D., before we took it down. Now she's working with the police department."

            "Wife?" Bucky asks, making eye contact with Cherise. Her heart rate increases.

            "You got married already?" Bucky asks, cocking a brow.

            "Thought you were just engaged."

            "Technically, yes. We're not married _yet_ ," Steve explains.

Bucky smiles and takes a step towards Cherise, switching the gift bags he's holding to his metal hand before shaking Cherise's with the flesh one. Something tells her he knew it would have unnerved her if he had tried to shake her hand with the other one. She gazes up into his eyes, his brown hair neatly combed back into a bun at the nape of his neck, and realizes how handsome he actually is. His grip isn't extremely gentle, nor is it too tight. His hand is warm, and for a moment, it reminds her of Steve. So she lets go, after struggling to say hello and that it's nice to meet him, she's heard a lot about him. At that, Bucky seems uncomfortable, looking off into the other room at the tree again.

            "That's a nice tree, Mrs. Rogers," he says. Her heart jumps when he refers to her as Steve's wife. She thanks him and Steve begins to take Sam's coat. Bucky places the bags on the floor to remove his own. Steve takes the items to hang them on the rack before talking about the chairs for the table and disappearing back to the basement, leaving her with the two guests. Sam calls after Steve, asking whether he could use a hand, and disappears right after him. Bucky turns to face Cherise, and she pretends not to notice his eyes looking her up and down. She could practically _feel_ it, as if he were touching her. She excuses herself and starts to the kitchen, saying she doesn't want the turkey to burn, just to get out of the awkward situation. She wonders why Bucky had looked at her like that. Was it simply because they'd never met, and she happened to be wearing such a nice dress? But he'd waited until Steve left them alone to really look at her...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A bit of non-con and some gun violence mentioned.

            Steve pops the Merlot Sam had brought, and had even gone to the effort of placing a bow on to make it match the occasion. It was his gift to them. The men converse in the den in front of the fire Steve had started while Cherise tries to stop her hands from shaking as she sets the table in the dining room. The food is done and she just wants to finish setting up. Steve walks into the room with the salad, looking happier than she'd seen him in a while. She knows he's glad that Bucky's there. The crimson dress she wore matches her nail varnish, which she sighs with disappointment upon realizing is already chipped on her left thumb.

            " _Shit_ ," she mutters under her breath.

            "What's the matter?" Steve asks, placing the bowl beside the mashed potatoes in the centre of the table.

            "Ugh, nothing. I just ruined my nails, that's all."

            "I wouldn't have noticed. You look _beautiful_ ," he says for the umpteenth time, stealing a moment to grab her by the waist and kiss her. Cherise grins.

            "I'm gonna need some more of that for dessert," he says seductively, quietly enough that neither Sam nor Bucky (who are laughing in the next room, anyway) can hear.

            "If you're good for the rest of the evening, we'll see what happens," she responds in just as sly a tone. Her face blazes a moment before she hugs him back and makes her way to the kitchen for the turkey.

            "Boys, get ready for a treat. This woman cooks like you wouldn't _believe_ …" Steve's voice trails off as he disappears back to the den. Cherise pulls open the kitchen drawer where she had stowed the gun Steve brought home a few nights prior. She'd never seen it before, and just had a feeling that it wasn't exactly his. Guns weren't really Steve's style. She closes the drawer, surprised he hasn't realized it's gone missing and hasn't asked about it. Steve makes his way into the kitchen again.

            "Honey, you've done _more_ than enough already. Let me get that. It's kind of heavy," he says, picking up the potholders from her and carrying the stuffed bird into the dining room. Sam and Bucky are talking about some sort of baseball game when Cherise makes her appearance again. Steve had pulled out a spot for her beside him near the head of the table, and stands there waiting. She takes her seat and he pushes her in. She thanks him kindly and he reaches for the carving knives. He serves Cherise first, then Sam and Bucky, himself last. They pass the mashed potatoes, the gravy, the vegetables Cherise had roasted.

            "Wow. I haven't had a home cooked meal like this since probably...nineteen-forty…" Bucky trails off, his eyes darting over his plate.

            "How do you like food these days?" Sam asks.

            "I don't mind Subway, but I can barely cook and I was getting tired of sandwiches," he admits.

            "Anyway, it looks delicious, Mrs. Rogers. I'm honored," Bucky adds, placing that metal hand to his chest a moment.

            "Thank you. _Please_ enjoy it. And take leftovers—Sam, you too," she says, meaning it. Wilson laughs. Cherise knows that she would not have finished all of this food on her own as soon as Steve could have. It would have taken her at _least_ a week.

            "Will do," Bucky responds with a grin, and she wonders whether Sam or Steve notices him wink at her. She turns her eyes to her glass of wine, wondering whether she's suddenly become as shy as she was in her teenage days, or if Bucky is just a suave old man. He passed for not an _hour_ over twenty-five (as does Steve). He looked to be some sort of Adonis. She begins to stop focusing so much on his arm and more on his face, and human expressions, his laugh, his grin; there is nothing assassin-esque about him, if she doesn't focus on his arm. He becomes less menacing in her eyes very quickly. Steve pours her another half glass of wine, and it cajoles her to relax even more. The men are talking about their resolutions for the new year. Cherise begins to feel a bit sleepy. Wine did this to her. She isn't a drinker naturally, and as Steve almost absently begins to pour her more, she places her hand over the top.

            "No, I'm fine," she says. Steve stops talking to actually pay attention to her.

            "You sure?"

            "We've got a lightweight here, Steve," Sam jokes. She blows a raspberry at him, at which Bucky laughs, and Cherise's eyes flit to him, and she smiles shyly before looking away again.

            "You spent _all_ of Christmas Eve cleaning the house, cooking. Come on, indulge," Steve presses, "And she wouldn't let me help out. She likes things done just so," he adds, grinning.

            "If I have any more of that, I'm gonna…go to sleep right here, on this gravy," she says. She knows she' slightly drunk. Steve corks the bottle and finishes the last ounce of Cherise's glass.

            "This man doesn't get _drunk_ ," she says, almost in disbelief, pointing her thumb at Steve. It wasn't that she didn't already know this isn't even a possibility for Steve, but it still surprises her to see how much he can take at any one time. Sam laughs.

            "Neither do I," Bucky adds, tipping his glass to his lips.

            "Man, all these super soldiers," Sam states, shaking his head, "You're the designated driver tonight, Bucky."

            "Not me," Cherise whispers loudly across the table. The four of them share in another laugh.

            "Now, I'm not the kinda guy who wants to drink to get shattered, but I quickly realized it's no longer possible," Steve grins.

            "Let me get you guys some tea, and dessert," Cherise says, brushing her hand over Steve's arm where it rests on the tabletop, and pausing to kiss him atop the head as she starts to the kitchen. She catches Bucky's eye wandering after her trailing hand as it leaves Steve's shoulder. Suddenly, she wishes she knew what he was thinking. Had he simply _not seen_ a woman in all those years he spent as a brainwashed puppet? If Cherise didn't know any better, she'd have thought there were inappropriate thoughts running through Bucky's head. She pries open the freezer in the kitchen for the ice cream, placing a full kettle of water atop the stove and turning it on. Cherise reaches for the apple pie in the oven with a pair of mitts. She had excused herself two or three times during dinner to go and check on it. It seemed ready. When she comes up to place the sweet item on the stove top, Bucky is standing in front of the refrigerator behind her with his hands full of plates.

            Cherise gasps. She hadn't seen or heard him come in at all. She wonders, sizing him up, how the hell this was possible. He's just about as massive as Steve. Too much of him is starting to remind her of Steve, and she closes her eyes a moment and places a hand over her chest.

            "I'm sorry, Mrs. Rogers. Didn't mean to startle you. I was just clearing the table. Steve _tried_ to insist that he do it, but I felt obliged."

            "You—you can just call me Cherise," she says, laughing nervously, "I mean, Mrs. just makes me feel kinda old." Bucky smiles.

            "It really _was_ the best meal I've had in decades, Cherise," he adds.

            "Oh, you're too kind," she says humbly, starting slowly towards Bucky for the plates. Her hand touches the cold metal one for only an instant, but long enough for her to again notice that one of Bucky's arms is made of metal. He holds the plates up higher, away from her. But the way he turns his left shoulder back ever so slightly tells her he hadn't wanted her to touch that metallic limb at all, almost as if he knew how uneasy it made her.

            "Please, let me. Do you want 'em in the sink?"

Cherise nods.

            "Y-yeah, the sink. Right over there," she points. Bucky brings them towards the open space and she tears her eyes away from the arm. She turns to pick up the pie again. Bucky's voice meets her ear and she pauses. It sounds as if he's closed the space between them. He's certainly no longer on the other side of the kitchen.

            "When people see me, they get scared. And I know it's because of this," Bucky says. Cherise turns with the pie to find him already looking down at her. He run's his flesh hand down the metallic limb.

            "But, it's entirely different when people _see_ _me_ and they get scared, because they know exactly who I am. It's not Bucky they see…Steve is lucky for that. He's a hero in legend. I'm not." He takes a step closer, and Cherise inhales, just loud enough that the soldier hears it. He stops approaching, but grins sideways. She thinks about the gun in the drawer, and wonders whether she could have been fast enough to grab it if he'd have tried to attack her. She feels nervous only when she _looks at his arm_. The Soviet star glints as he shifts beneath the incandescent lights.

            "But that's not who I am anymore," he admits, looking frustrated for a handful of seconds. His shiny fist clenches and she detects a faint whirring noise, like an upset machine groaning. A look of displeasure passes over Bucky's face.

            "The Winter—"

            "No," he says, cutting her off. He shakes his head.

            "Oh my god I'm sorry," Cherise blurts hastily. If she hadn't been holding the pie, she would have face palmed rather hard. To her surprise, Bucky laughs.

            "You know, Steve's a lucky guy to have you. I know I barely know you, but I can already tell." Her heart races. He looks her up and down again, and she feels naked, taking a step back until her back is to the warm oven. He just looks at her, from the tip of her toes, up the waist of her flaming dress, and when he gets to her neck, she feels as if she can't breathe. In fact, she feels heated, like there's something hot against her body somewhere. Bucky's eyes never meet Cherise's. Instead, they flicker back to her waist and widen like blue oceans. His mouth falls agape and he lunges forth at her. Cherise shrieks, feeling herself spin bodily. The pie goes flying somewhere as she grips at what feels like Bucky's chest in an attempt to fend him off. Bucky's cold metal hand damn near slaps her just above the rear. He does it again and her head makes contact with his surprisingly soft chest, at which she hears a quiet grunt escape him. It takes her a moment to really sense the burning of her dress; she had stood too close to the stove, where she'd placed the kettle to heat up only a moment prior.

            Steve pops into the kitchen with wide eyes, and she knows he'd heard her scream. Cherise lifts her head up away from Bucky's chest, but her hands are still planted there and she stares up at him, his hand still tapping on her waist. Steve spots the dropped pie on the clean kitchen floor and then his eyes fix again on Bucky who is putting out the last of the flames on the skirt of Cherise's dress.

            "My god, your dress was on fire," Steve says loudly. She pulls her hands up off of Bucky's chest, leaning away from him stiffly. His flesh hand makes contact with her waist as he meets her eyes at last. He then lets her go as Steve gets closer, and turns his eyes away a bit uncomfortably.

            "Are you okay?" Steve asks desperately, running his hand over the burnt fabric, where there is now an open, sooty hole. She feels his fingers on her skin. The damn flames had even burnt off some of her underwear. It was only moments ago that Bucky's large hands had gripped her waist almost exactly the way that Steve's do now.

            "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, kissing her forehead gratefully before turning to Bucky.

            "She stood too close to the stove. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have distracted you."

            "Are you hurt?" Steve asks, pulling her towards him again and running his hands over the open spot on her dress.

            "No," she breathes, her heart finally slowing down.

            "I heard you scream and I just—"

            "I'm _okay_ ," she says, pulling away from Steve. Bucky stands there kind of awkwardly, crossing his arms.

            "H-he put it out," she says, laughing nervously, running her hand over the back of her waist where she can feel the hole around her skin.

            "Thank you," he says genuinely to Bucky. He nods.

            "You're lucky that material is pretty thick. You didn't notice until I did," he adds.

            "The _pie_ ," Cherise groans, placing her hands over her lips.

            "I'm _so_ sorry. If I hadn't grabbed you like that, you wouldn't have dropped—"

            "No, no, no. It was an accident," Steve says reassuringly.

            "I'd rather have no dessert than a burning wife for Christmas," Steve admits, relieved. Cherise laughs beneath her hands for a moment. He pats Bucky's shoulder. Sam appears in the doorway, and frowns upon seeing the pie on the kitchen floor.

            "Aw, _man_. I could smell it, too. Was it apple? …What happened in here?"

            "Cherise's dress caught on fire," Steve explains, "But don't worry, everything's fine. Buck put it out pretty fast."

            "It's okay. We've still got ice cream," Cherise sighs, pointing to it. She turns a moment to get some bowls from the cabinet. Steve grips her arm.

            "Honey, why don't you go change?" he says quietly. She'd just as soon forgotten about the hole in her dress. She turns around to find Bucky turning away, and for a moment, she swears his cheeks flush pink. Cherise excuses herself to get changed, while Sam and Steve clean up the apple pie.

 

            She starts back down the stairs in a jade green dress. And when she makes it to the landing, she can see Bucky standing there with his glass of wine. For a moment, it seems as if he'd been waiting for her to come down. He watches her, as if mesmerized. Sam and Steve's laughs can be heard from the den, where she assumes they're sitting.

            "I'm so sorry about your dress," Bucky states, making eye contact. He's taller than her, just like Steve. She notices that he'd let his hair down at some point. It's smoothed over his strong forehead like a slew of chocolate, falling against his cheek in silent waves.

            "It's no big deal. I'm just glad you could stop it before I actually got burned. That would have been worse," she says with some embarrassment. Bucky grins.

            "I was wondering where the bathroom was," he says.

            "There's one down here, but the toilet's not working right. If you just go upstairs, there's one on your left, right before the bedroom."

            "Thank you. Excuse me." He steps up the stairs past her.

            "Cher?" Steve calls from the other room, "It's gift time. We're in here."

She makes her way into the den where Sam is sitting comfortably in the armchair. Steve has already begun to pull the gifts out from under the tree. She's reminded of Natasha's gift, and wonders whether Steve will realize she wasn't hiding one she'd bought for him that day he caught her staring out the window.

            "Let's wait for Bucky," Sam says, straightening his green polo sweater.

            "He went to the bathroom. He'll be right down," Cherise explains. Steve stops organizing the gifts once he catches sight of her. He stands up to his full height, grinning.

            "Good choice," he says, reaching for Cherise's hands. She smiles as Steve moves in to kiss her. He hasn't finished by the time Bucky walks back into the room with an empty wineglass.

            "Any day now, guys," Sam says, clearing his throat. Bucky sits on the couch and when Cherise steals a glance at him, he's already looking at her. They begin to open their gifts.

            "Natasha?" Steve asks, holding up an apple spice scented candle, "She told me she was headed over to Europe for the holidays. I thought she left after our mission a week ago. When did she drop by?" he asks, gazing over at Cherise.

            "I didn't want to ruin the surprise," she says, smiling, "She stopped by while you were sleeping the other day." Steve only smiles and Cherise feels a tad less guilty about having lied to him.

            "What?" he says excitedly, opening the mug she'd bought him, "This looks almost _exactly_ like the one you dropped last week." Cherise nods as Steve opens the box. It's a dark blue and star-spangled mug with a white handle. He reads the back of the box before turning it to face Sam and Bucky.

            "It turns into the flag when you add hot water," he grins.

            "I _knew_ you'd like it," she says, crossing her arms. Steve stands up to kiss her again and pull her into his arms.

            "I don't like it, Cher, I _love_ it," Steve says in a velvety deep voice.

            "Mmm, you do?" she says between his lips.

            "Mhmmm."

Sam whistles lasciviously.

            "Bucky, I think we're gonna have to hit the road in a minute so these two can, uh, have some privacy."

Bucky laughs and then Steve stops kissing her. He cocks a brow in a somewhat annoyed fashion at Sam while carefully storing his new mug back into its box. He playfully slaps Sam in the chest where he sits in the armchair.

            "Let's do one for Cher," Steve continues, grabbing one of the bags Bucky had been carrying when he and Sam arrived. Steve eyes the tag with Cherise's name on it and hands it to her.

            "That's from Bucky," he says. Cherise thanks him kindly, saying that he really didn't have to as she pulls out a medium sized white box. She can tell right away that it's jewelry.

            "Now, don't give him _all_ of the credit. I helped pick it out," Steve grins, "I mean, I guess I didn't _really_. I just told him that you're not big on gold. He wasn't exactly upset to hear that," Steve adds.

            "It's just a little something nice for a new friend," Bucky says, watching hopefully.

            "Steve, your boy's tryna steal your woman. Next thing you know—" Sam jokes, and Steve slaps him in the chest again, but noticeably harder this time. Sam coughs between laughs. Shiny silver greets Cherise's eyes as she gazes upon the necklace. A cushion red ruby is attached to the chain. Cherise is speechless. She doesn't even notice Bucky standing up until she feels someone behind her, fixing it to her neck. She feels the chill of his metallic fingers for a moment, but merely moves her hair to the side as he clips it on.

            "This is…oh, this is too much, James. You really didn't have to. It's absolutely _gorgeous_."

Steve smiles past her at Bucky.

            "Oh, my gifts are _mediocre_ in comparison," she says, feeling cheap. She'd gotten all three men ties—albeit really nice ones—and the mug was special for Steve, Sam's gift included a rather nice piloting book, as she knew it was his thing, and she'd really had no idea what to give to Bucky aside from the tie. She'd bought it without having met him in the first place. She had no idea whether it was even his style.

            "So long as you let me take home some of that turkey, your gift _completely_ outshines mine," Bucky reassures her. Cherise turns to face him with a laugh. She really wasn't kidding about the food. Bucky hugging her surprises her somewhat. She folds her hands against his back gently and thanks him. By the time Sam and Bucky leave, Cherise feels ready to go to sleep. Steve insists on cleaning everything up, so she takes her leave. She'd had enough to drink for one evening. She starts her routine for bed, removing the bit of makeup she'd bothered to put on for the occasion. She showers almost absentmindedly, remembering what it felt like to have that cold metal limb patting on her repeatedly. When she steps out of the shower, she realizes she hadn't taken off the necklace. She stares at it in the mirror, and doesn't respond to Steve until he finally speaks at the door.

            "You sure you're okay, baby? You didn't get burned at all?"

She stops tinkering with the piece of jewelry to face him. He pushes the door open further. If he had knocked, she wasn't paying enough attention to notice.

            "I'm fine," she promises. It was just a—a stupid accident. I wasn't paying attention."

Steve had already unbuttoned his shirt. He places his hand on the sink and looks down at her, playing with her hair.

            "You sure?"

She smiles, closing her eyes.

            "He…it wasn't James's fault. I turned the kettle on, and I was going for the pie, and…just an accident," she reassures. She wonders a moment whether Steve worried that Bucky would have tried to hurt her. Bucky hadn't said very much the entire evening. It actually surprised her when he started talking to her in the kitchen like that.

            "Hey…you okay? You just seem a bit distracted lately. Jumpy," Steve explains, running those warm hands up and down her arms. She thinks about Bucky's cold metal hand, how the fingers made contact with her skin at the back of her neck, and she flinches, turning her head to the side and closing her eyes. Bucky's flesh hand was otherwise as warm as Steve's. She realizes at last how much Bucky reminds her of Steve. It wasn't that they looked so much alike as it was the fact that he was strong like Steve, capable of just about anything with those large hands. But she'd felt nervous when Bucky's hands were on her.

            She never feels nervous in quite a fearful way when Steve's touching her. She knows that he wouldn't dream of hurting her with those hands. The moment where she saw that frustration on Bucky's face, it just made him seem menacing all over again.

            "Cher?"

Steve's voice had gotten far away.

            "Steve, why was there a gun beside your shield when you came home the other night?" she finally asks.

            "I never see you use guns. I didn't know you kept one in the house."

Steve's eyes travel to the side for a moment, away from her.

            "I must've borrowed it from a friend on my last mission. I completely forgot about it, actually."

Clearly he had.

            "I'm so sorry. I know you don't like that kind of stuff being in the house."

True, Cherise didn't like guns, despite having spent a lot of time being around them. She'd simply seen enough in her line of work, didn't want the house she lived in to feel like a place that wasn't safe. It doesn't help that her fondest memory of a gun is her brother's suicide when she was fifteen. He was only three years older than her, troubled, and her father had had the nerve to keep his gun in the house. Steve knew this story.

            "Babe, I'm sorry…I'll get rid of it. Where is it?" he asks, cupping her face in both hands and looking genuinely apologetic.

            "In the kitchen drawer," she says, closing her eyes as he kisses her forehead again. Her limbs had begun to give way at the thought of finding her big brother in his room, blasting Whitesnake like he always did, except that time when she went to tell him to turn it down, his wall was painted a bright red. Her dad quit his job as a cop after that…She starts past Steve, not wanting the memory back.

            "Cher?"

When she fumbles into bed, wrapping the towel tightly around her, she hears Steve come in shortly after. He crawls behind her into the bed, his hand tracing comfortingly over her hip. He picks her up into a hug and she sighs and closes her eyes.

            "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to bring it home, but I guess I forgot to give it back when we finished." She sighs again and sits upon her knees to hug him. He'd regretted it, she could tell. She kisses him before reaching for the lotion on the nightstand. Instead, Steve begins to help her slather it on, and she pulls her towel off to let his hands make their way down her body. She closes her eyes and leans into his chest. It's soft, and where her head often lies at night. She liked the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear.

            "Bucky's living in my old apartment. I think he likes having his own space, you know?" Steve says casually. Her eyes open and she keeps silent.

            "I'm just so glad I could have him back…there's so much that I can never see again…People I never got to say goodbye to…"

She kisses Steve's chest comfortingly.

            "I love you, Cherise."

She can't remember drifting off. She just remembers Steve's warm hands on her legs, rubbing in the lotion. She closes her eyes, relaxing into his touch, but when he's finally on top of her, it feels…different. There's something cold about him. She can't tell what. She shivers, and when she opens her eyes, it isn't Steve moaning erotically, sailing between her thighs, but Bucky. His metallic limb bears into the pillow beside her head, and rips it clear open before restraining her hands as she begins to frantically push at his sweating, naked chest, feathers flying around her in an odd sort of way, like little white clouds…

            " _Cherise_ ," Steve says louder. Something is pinning her down, restraining her hands and she's mumbling, shaking her head. She finally opens her eyes and can see Steve in the dark. He flicks on the lamp.

            "It's okay. You were just having a bad dream," he says comfortingly, slipping closer to her beneath the quilt. She sighs, squinting in the light at the ceiling.

            "I got up for a second to get some water, and I came back and you were panicking in your sleep," he explains. The last thing she remembers is Steve's hands slathering lotion down her legs. It must have put her to sleep. It wasn't the first time he simply held her and she fell asleep against his warm chest. He'd apparently dressed her too; she's wearing his Yankees t-shirt and a pair of underwear she doesn't remember putting on.

            "You okay?" Steve asks, lifting her head. She sits up straight and Steve's eyes fix on something at her neck.

            "You shouldn't wear that to sleep. It'll break," he says. She has no idea what he means until she feels him unhook the necklace from Bucky and place it on the nightstand.

            "You scared me," he says, pulling her into his arms, kissing her temple repeatedly. She stares at the necklace on the nightstand where Steve had placed it, and can't help feeling those cold metallic fingers at the nape of her neck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now I'm realizing just how much I love Steve Rogers. I started this thinking I was just going to change my mind and delete it without finishing, but now I'm really starting to enjoy writing this pairing. I don't want to do what I was originally planning to do, but if I don't, it will defeat the plot of this story that I devised in my head in the first place...Because I also love Bucky.

            Cherise doesn't fall asleep again so easily, even in Steve's arms. She and he lie side by side, looking at each other, sharing souls tacitly. He grins every now and then, and every heavy blink of his wheat gold lashes fans her heated soul to calm down and come away from the dream. Soon, Steve is the only thing she sees again. He rolls onto his back to turn the lamp off where it sits on the nightstand, and in the process, Cherise finds her head a comfortable spot upon the Captain's chest. He sighs with relaxation, pulling an arm around her.

            "Goodnight, baby," she says.

            "Goodnight," he says, holding tighter for a moment.

Steve's heart beats normally beneath her ear, and sings her to sleep.

 

            He's not around when she wakes, and she can tell already that he must have gone out on his usual morning run. He'd been sleeping in beside her for a few days since really being home for vacation. She'd sometimes wake around seven a.m. to the feel of him kissing her cheek before walking quietly out the door in his running shoes. She sits up to find one of the pink post-it notes she'd brought home from work sitting taped to Steve's side of the bed. Smiling, her hair a mess into her face, she reads it. He's taking her out to dinner tonight, seeing as they decided to spend dinner for Christmas in the house with their friends. Steve had asked her more than once who she was planning on inviting for Christmas. She'd told him that almost _half_ of her friends had turned out to be HYDRA disguised as S.H.I.E.L.D., so most of them were dead, and the other half were busy doing things with their own families.

            Part of the latter half of the explanation wasn't entirely true. Cherise simply hadn’t been sure how dinner with The Winter Soldier was going to turn out, and she didn't want to have to expose people she loved to that sort of uncertainty. She sits on the edge of the bed, clutching Steve's note, thinking that perhaps she'd been a bit unfair to Bucky with her preconceived notions. He turned out to be a rather nice guy. And he has manners. And he's attractive…and he's her soon-to-be-husband's best friend in the entire world. No, she could _never_ cheat on Steve. She loves Steve. Cherise shakes her head as she steps into her flip-flops and makes her way to the bathroom. She had merely found Bucky attractive physically—that was _all_. She blushes at finally admitting the thought to herself while stepping into the shower.

            …It doesn't make her a bad person to have simply found a man _other_ thanSteve attractive. She's not emotionally involved with anyone else to the extent that she is with Steve, and she certainly isn't _sexually_ involved with anyone other than Steve. But as she rubs the shampoo further into her roots, she pauses. _But this other man just so happens to be_ **my** _man's best friend_. It's not as if she'd kissed Bucky. She tells herself to stop thinking about him, before she causes anymore inappropriate dreams to occur…But she wasn't even thinking about Bucky when she had that dream. She'd fallen asleep right on Steve's chest, so why the hell wasn't he the one in her dream? _No_ , she reasons, her dream doesn't make her a horrible person, because it's not as if she's in love with Bucky. She'd only just met him. And if the dream made her bad, then Steve is bad, too. He still goes to visit Peggy Carter, but it's obvious they're not jumping in bed together. Cherise could understand what Peggy means to Steve; she'd been his first romantic love. She's terminally ill now, Alzheimer's too. Every time Steve goes to see her, she forgets as soon as his back is through the door. It's only a matter of time before it will break Cherise's heart to watch Steve crying at Peggy's funeral.

            Cherise wouldn't take those visits away from Steve for the world. He loved Peggy at one point, the same way that he loves Cherise now. She knows that Steve's love for Peggy Carter is now no more than amicable. If Cherise had ever gotten the opportunity to speak again to the first man she'd ever loved in college, she wouldn't have done it with the intent to cheat on the Captain. You never forget your first love, regardless of who you end up being soul mates with.           

           Cherise is convinced that she and Steve are soul mates. She'd never met anyone quite like him, and sometimes she believes that perhaps it's because his youth was in a different time, others because he's simply a kindred soul. Dating him had been the most pleasurable dating experience Cherise had ever had; he could make her laugh, she could make him laugh, they could debate, have heart-to-hearts, just hold hands and watch the stars. There was never any pressure to take things to the next level at shotgun speed, like there tends to be in her generation. Steve didn't seem to care so much about the physical aspects of the relationship; he would touch her frequently and hug and kiss but it wasn't until she'd really instigated it that they actually slept together. But when they did, she knew it to her very bones that it was not simply out of a superficial desire. Their foundation had been strictly emotional, and their relationship really built its way up from storge to eros, and then agape. She would lay down her life for Steve if she had to.

            The thought of him makes her smile, and thinking all of this, she begins to cry. The feeling is hard to explain; it isn't a sadness, no, not that at all. And it isn't precisely a happiness, either. She doesn't like to think about what would happen if Steve were to die. She wouldn't be able to continue functioning. Thankfully, this event is unlikely, and the Captain is more than likely be the one to suffer Cherise's death; he can't age. But this thought hurts her just as much! She'd loved _so_ many people who turned out not to be worth it—especially after S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed. So many of those agents, her coworkers, she'd called them sisters, brothers, made them her emergency contacts, knowing her folks were simply too old to carry that burden any longer. Perhaps it was because of losing her brother the way that she did at such a young age that she put herself so close to those people who she thought could protect her, who instead, betrayed her and betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D.. But _perhaps_ it was because of losing her brother that she'd so quickly warmed up to Steve, his protective nature…She stops weeping to finish washing.

            When Cherise gets herself dressed and settled down in the dining room with her breakfast, she hears Steve starting up the front steps. She practically jumps up out of her seat, pulling the front door open before his key actually makes contact with the keyhole. Steve's blue eyes widen unexpectedly and he pulls the earphones out of his ears, nearly dropping the bouquet of assorted flowers that Cherise has already seen to hide them behind his back. He grins like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Cherise starts around him to take another look at the flowers, so he turns, catching her as she drops down over the threshold.

            "Jesus, I didn't even hear you coming," he says, holding her back with one arm, backing up into the house to try and keep the flowers out of her sight.

            "Come on, Cher. You ruined the surprise," he whines half seriously.

            "Steve—let me see—I already saw them," she laughs.

He pulls the flowers slowly from behind his back.

            "I was running past this strip mall and saw them in the window…I was thinking we still have to decide what flowers you're gonna want the bridesmaids to be carrying," he says. She takes them, closes her eyes and smells them. Steve's lips make contact with her forehead. She hears him close the front door. She leans back against it and gazes up at him with a feeling of drunkenness that no one has ever given her before. He smiles.

            "I take it you like them?"

She places a hand upon his sweaty shoulder. The formfitting material of his top is drenched, but she cares not when his full lips make contact with her own.

            "I'm gonna get a shower. We can leave around seven. I actually made reservations to this place early this month, because I knew you'd probably rather spend Christmas at home, and they'd have been booked by the time we decided to go out to eat," he says, caressing her cheek with his thumb. He'd been right to plan it so. They'd only moved in seven months prior, and this is the first house Cherise has ever owned. She'd lived at home with her mom or dad after finishing college (they divorced shortly after her brother's suicide), in different apartments with friends for years, until the leases would expire and she'd gotten really tired of picking up all of her belongings and moving from building to building all over the place. She'd wanted a home, an anchor, to call her own, so she and Steve bought it together. Steve knew Cherise wanted the first set of holidays living there to be spent in the house.

            "Oh my god…" she says, trailing off, staring up into Steve's eyes. His smile slowly fades.

            "What is it?" he asks, clutching her shoulders, his eyebrows pinching in concern.

            "…Why are you _so_ perfect?" she whispers before standing upon her tiptoes to kiss him again. He laughs, and his chest reverberates beneath her hand.

            "Don't scare me like that," he says when she's done damn near devouring his mouth. He gives her a stern look, but can't help smiling as he turns on his heels to start upstairs. He pauses and turns to face her a moment.

            "And I was thinking we'd take the Harley tonight, since it's been so warm and it finally stopped raining."

            "Okay," she says, watching as he pulls his shoes off. It has been a warm December, the kind of days that reach sixty degrees, right before the snow hits. They were going to get it soon. Cherise just knows she's excited for the night. She walks into the kitchen to put her new flowers in a vase, reading the label out loud.

            "Gerbera daisy, rosebud, tulip, hydrangea…" Some of them are peach-coloured, to match the wedding's colour scheme. Steve might be in his nineties, but Cherise knows she can always count on him for style. They had yet to really disagree about a detail they had pieced together. She pulls out a clear vase from under the kitchen sink, rinses it out, fills it with water, adds the tiniest bit of bleach (a trick her mother said a florist had taught her), and a spoon full of sugar to wake the flowers up. The flowers look rather intact, and she guesses that Steve had not actually run his way back home, otherwise, they'd only be stems. She laughs to herself at the thought of Steve speeding by the window of a flower-shop, only to take several yards at slowing down before turning back.

            Right before she plops the flowers into the vase, she remembers yet another one of her mother's preservation tricks. Wanting to slice about an inch slant-wise from the bottom of the stems, Cherise begins searching for the scissors. She asks herself several times where they might be before pulling open the drawer which contains the gun Steve had promised to get rid of. Her heart jolts upon seeing it there. Had he forgotten about it again? He'd told her he would get rid of the thing, and when the Captain tells Cherise he's going to do something, he never fails to do it. She stares at the gun a moment too long, and it's like it's fourteen years ago all over again, and she can hear Whitesnake blasting so loud, the house seems to be shaking, and she pulls her brother's door open...

            Cherise slams the drawer shut and makes her way to the other end of the kitchen, where she subsequently finds the scissors. She pulls them out and slams them on the counter, having to put the flowers down a moment to just rid herself of thoughts that only pain her. She doesn't even want to bother reminding Steve that the gun is still there. All she wants is to forget it entirely. After a few deep breaths, she cuts the stems, with a less than steady hand. Once they are in the vase, she brings it to the center of the dining room table, placing it between the two Poinsettias that she and Steve had bought prior to last night's dinner with Sam and Bucky. Bucky. He enters her thoughts again. She finds herself seated in the chair where he'd been sitting, the eggs she'd made herself half finished and having gone cold. She wonders momentarily whether she'd intentionally sat in this very spot. Seeing the gun again made her lose her appetite.

            Cherise ventures upstairs to begin scavenging her side of the closet for something pretty to wear to dinner that night. She spends no more than five minutes looking over her clothes before Steve walks into the bedroom. She turns around to see him in a towel, his hair damp and swept back over his head.

            "The white one," he says, taking a seat on their bed.

            "Huh?" Cherise responds distractedly, not bothering to turn around.

            "If you were trying to figure out what to wear to dinner tonight, I really like the white dress you wore the day after we moved in. You know, the one from the housewarming party." Cherise's memory is jogged and she reaches between two sundresses to pick it out. She thinks for a moment that despite how warm it is today for December, she might get cold while sitting on the back of the Captain's Harley. She decides she wants to make him happy, not that he wouldn't have been happy with the wine coloured dress she was almost sure of.

            "Done," she says, bringing the garment out of the closet to rest it on the bed. Steve eyes it and grins as she goes back for the iron.

 

            It wouldn't have mattered to her where Steve was going, all she knows is that so long as it's with him, she's happy. The wind kindly licks her hair as she holds him tightly, and he glides past another green light. Neither of them are wearing helmets, but she trusts completely that he can protect her from anything. It only helps that the roads are dry for the first time in about a week. She has to keep her chin against his shoulder to be sure her lipstick doesn't smudge the Captain's leather jacket. The bike is big, Steve is big, and she feels almost unitless in comparison, but no less relevant. She can smell the bit of fragrance Steve had put on as he slows to a stop and she allows the side of her face to lightly contact his shoulder blade. It reminds her of their first real date. She could smell it only when she hugged him, and something about it was vaguely familiar the first time she had smelled it. She still can't exactly recall why.

            "Mrs. Rogers," Steve chimes, popping the kickstand once he stops in front of a lit up restaurant, "Your dinner awaits." She laughs to herself and hops off, using Steve's body as a brace. He steps off the bike after her, pulling an arm around her middle and kissing her on the cheek. She stands lopsided at this as they start for the door.

            "You cold?" he asks. He'd asked her a couple of times on the way whether she'd felt comfortable back there. It hadn't been nearly as cold as it generally is in the winter, and she has little to nothing to complain about while with Steve. She shakes her head as Steve pulls open the front door for her.

            "Thank you, Mr. Rogers," she beams, a hint of seduction in her voice. She quickly discovers that the restaurant is French. She doesn't remember the last time she'd had this kind of food. Perhaps never. The lighting is low and soft, and the pleasant melody of a piano somewhere nearby greets her ears. As Steve begins speaking in French to the maître d', Cherise's eyes widen with interest. She hadn't known how fluent Steve really is. He seems unfazed by her expression as they are led to their table. About the only thing she'd understood in that conversation was the word fiancée, which she knew she probably only recognized because at one point, Steve held her waist tighter for a few seconds.

            They are led to a table for two and Cherise begins to feel like royalty as another waiter almost immediately begins to pour her some wine, followed by Steve, before leaving the bottle in an ice bath beside their table. Steve picks up his menu as Cherise begins thanking the waiter, who informs them that his name is Adrien, he will be serving them this evening, hopes they will enjoy themselves, and that he will return shortly to take their orders. Steve nods and finally looks across the table at Cherise, who's staring at him with amazement. He laughs.

            "I'll never get over the way you do that," he says.

            "Steve, it's not just this fancy place, it's _you_. Why are you so amazing?" Cherise asks, placing her menu on the table. Steve places his down to reach across it for her hands.

            "I'll never be able to answer that question, Cherise. And you know why?"

            "Why?" she grins.

            "Because I can't figure out why you're… _everything_ to me."

Her beats way too fast, and for a moment, she's sure that an ambulance might need to be called. She is rendered blind by the tears that build up in her eyes. She pulls one of her hands out of Steve's to wipe them, quickly laughing to be sure Steve doesn't mistake her reaction as upset.

            "I mean it, Cher. And this dinner is just one, tiny, subtle way of showing you that."

She fans herself with one hand a moment before smiling over at him.

            "You never told me you could speak French like _that_ ," she says.

Needless to say, the two wine, they dine, and by the time dessert comes, Cherise feels like a glutton. But she knows that Steve wanted to treat her. She had every right to enjoy herself. When they leave, she feels as if the night had simply been a dream. She can't keep her hands off of Steve when they make it through the front door, and he can't keep his hands off her, either. Cherise steps out of her white dress and leaves it on the coat hanger by the door. Steve hangs his jacket, hastily unbuttons the shirt and tie he'd worn to add to the rack, kicks off his loafers, and doesn't bother to take anything else all the way off before picking Cherise up bridal style with ease, and carrying her up the stairs to their bed…

 

            When Cherise awakens, Steve has once again deserted her. She sits up, smiling while reminiscing the night, only to find that he hasn't left a note, either. She sighs in some confusion before assuming he just went for his usual run. She walks naked down the stairs and pauses at the coat rack to put on Steve's button down shirt. She can't stop smiling to herself as she buttons each one, basking in remembrance of the warmth of Steve's hands on her hips. His tie is still there as well. Cherise takes it down to press the piece of fabric to her nose. She can hear from where she's standing that the washing machine is on in the basement. She walks around the den, pulling the curtain back to find that Steve's Harley is still parked in their driveway. She reassures herself that he's out running. She casually pulls his tie around her neck and makes her way into the kitchen.

            She pauses after taking three steps inside to find a red-cheeked Steve struggling to slam Bucky's bionic grip against the table top, the men sitting face to face, two beers open on the counter that look to be half finished. Steve's head whips in the direction of Cherise, having caught her in his peripheral vision.

            "Reese!" he breathes with utter surprise, his eyes flitting over her mostly-naked form just long enough for him to lose the arm wrestling match to Bucky, who laughs out loud, pointing boastfully at Steve with his flesh hand, before following his gaze. Bucky's eyes widen and he quickly notices how little clothing Cherise is wearing; she had only buttoned the white shirt about a quarter of the way, and because it's white, it isn't too difficult to make out her nipples beneath, and she's not wearing underwear, which is, thankfully, not as detectable due to the length of Steve's shirt on her significantly smaller body. Steve stands, and Bucky begins to look away—damn near facing the wall sort of looking away. Cherise had only stood there long enough to see him do this before backing hastily out of the kitchen, dropping Steve's tie in the process.

            In the hallway, Steve grips her by the waist.

            "I—I," she starts, feeling embarrassed.

            "It's okay," he says, "You just surprised me—and Bucky's in there—and you're _naked_."

She covers her face with both hands. There's silence in the kitchen, where neither Cherise nor Steve can see that Bucky is grinning where he sits. Steve laughs, to Cherise's surprise.

            "It's no big deal. He's like your brother," Steve states, kissing her forehead. Cherise's heart thumps against her ribs. _Brother…_ She doesn't think too much into it as Steve leads her to the stairs.

            "What's he doing here, anyway?" she asks, clutching Steve's shirt closed at her chest.

            "Oh, I didn’t want to wake you up. He just showed up about fifteen minutes ago, said the washers in my old building aren't working right now, and he's got a job interview in the morning. He had to do some laundry, borrow our iron," Steve explains, repeatedly running his hands down Cherise's sides.

            "He rang the bell, so I just came down and let him in. I didn't want to wake you up."

She sighs, the embarrassment still salient.

            "That was _so_ stupid of me. I'm sorry. And, you know, I _almost_ walked into the kitchen naked, but then I saw your shirt on the rack there." Steve laughs, his nose scrunching up in the adorable way that it only does when he _really_ thinks something is funny. She slaps his chest playfully before starting upstairs to go and get herself dressed for real. When she makes her way down the stairs again, this time completely clothed, she finds that the basement door is open.

            "Steve?" Cherise calls, starting for it. But just as she rounds the door, someone comes right through and something pushes her back. She gasps upon finding herself sitting on the floor with some socks and t-shirts resting on her. Bucky stands there clutching one of the white crates that Steve uses to bring his clean clothes up from the dryer.

            "Oh, I'm so sorry," Bucky states, quickly dropping the crate to help Cherise stand up. She doesn't have time to even tell him it's alright before he moves to stand her, and she knows that she wasn't mistaken for feeling that his metal hand had helped to yank her up. Bucky is suddenly kneeling on the floor, picking up the clothes she had unintentionally caused him to drop. He looks up at her a moment and smiles, and she quickly finds it awkward to be anywhere near him after her sex dream and after what had happened in the kitchen moments prior. Even Bucky's bionic arm is miraculously built and limber like Steve's. She can’t help but stare at it momentarily in his formfitting t-shirt.

            "Oh, he went out to get some groceries really quickly. Said he was taking your car and wants to make us all lunch," Bucky explains casually, as if he hadn't just seen more of her than he should have a moment ago. And when he stands, she is dwarfed by his height, just like she is when she stands in front of Steve. Bucky looks down on her as she struggles for words.

            "Sorry about that. Wasn't really looking where I was going," Bucky adds. His electric eyes are piercing, and she feels him try to read her face a moment. It's a handful of seconds before she realizes she's blocking his way to the den, where the iron and board are already set up and the news is on TV. Cherise steps aside, crossing her arms nervously. Bucky grins at her before making his way into the den. She closes the basement door slowly, noting that it sounds like another load of clothes are in the washing machine. Upon locking the basement door, she realizes that Steve had left her _alone_ with Bucky. Suddenly she feels nervous. Obviously, Steve doesn't see his best friend as a threat, otherwise there is no way that he would have left Cherise in the same _room_ as Bucky, let alone their home. She tries to relax. Bucky has been anything but threatening to her thus far.

            Although the way he'd yanked her up off the floor so easily, so quickly, with what seemed like the effort of lifting a piece of paper, tells her a bit more about how strong that metal arm is. She stops trying to deny that she's nervous because of the dream she'd had. It was excruciatingly vivid, and the fact that Bucky had touched her just brought it right back to mind. Cherise thinks about the gun in the kitchen drawer. She starts to make her way there, pausing to see that Bucky's back is turned where he stands at the ironing board. He seems to be distracted by the television, as he reaches with his metal hand for the hot end of the iron, but this doesn't appear to bother him in the slightest. In fact, it's as if he doesn't even feel it, because he holds it for a number of seconds, staring at the screen, before bringing it down over what looks like a dress shirt. Something about this absolutely unnerves Cherise. She finishes her journey back to the kitchen and heads straight for the drawer in which she'd stowed the gun Steve had brought home the other night.

            When she pulls the drawer open, it's gone. She feels a sense of discontent; she had expected it to be there. Did Steve actually move it? She presumed he'd have done so right after she mentioned it, but yesterday, it had been there when she pulled the drawer open. She shakes her head, pausing in closing the drawer. What if Bucky had taken it? She doesn't know how long it's been since Steve went out for groceries, but during that time while she was in the shower, getting dressed, it's very possible that Bucky could have snooped around their home enough to find it. Her heart begins to beat rapidly again. She begins to want Steve to come home immediately. She thinks about locking herself in their bedroom, and then realizes that if Bucky could sit there for a minute with his hand on a goddamn hot iron and _not_ be bothered by it, a locked wooden door wasn't going to stop him from getting to her if he wanted to.

            She shakes her head. One moment, the dream wants to pop into her head, and the next, she's so scared that she can't move. She can't explain why she feels this strange split over Bucky. He'd only been nice to her since they met. But she _saw_ the way that he took a good look at her the other night, and she _saw_ the way that he took a good five-second look at her when she walked into the kitchen practically naked. What was to stop him from trying anything while Steve was out? Oh yeah, Steve's his best friend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas :) More Bucky coming in soon.

            Cherise stays in the kitchen and busies herself making tea. She then starts to wash the few dishes she and Steve had left in the sink from the previous day. Keeping her hands busy, she begins to feel relaxed, and she nearly forgets that Bucky is in her house ironing his clothes. And then, as she rinses the saucer she's finishing washing, Cherise can't help but sense that there are eyes on her. She slows what she's doing, but doesn't stop. She places the dish in the dish rack and grabs a dishtowel to dry her hands. When she turns around, Bucky is standing by the stove facing her. She gasps, but she'd had a feeling he was standing there. She wonders for how long. He's neither far away, nor close enough to touch her.

            "I'm sorry," he grins. She hones in on the box of dryer sheets that were normally sat on a table in the basement by the machines.

            "I was just wondering whether you had any more of these. This box has, like, two left," Bucky says, flipping the box casually in both his hands.

            "It's okay…yeah. I think I've got some upstairs in a closet. Let me, uh, let—let me get you some more," she says, grinning despite the fact that he had genuinely scared her. She doesn't understand how he and Steve are so huge, yet always able to sneak up on her that way.

            "Making tea again?" Bucky asks, smiling in a friendly way. Cherise leans back on the sink and crosses her arms, nodding.

            "Yes. I won't set myself on fire ever again," she says sure of herself. Bucky laughs.

            "Well, then, uh…I guess it's a good thing Steve didn't leave you home alone with the stove," Bucky laughs. He stands aside, seemingly aware that Cherise wouldn't have preferred walking so close to him after he had scared her seconds ago. She laughs, closing her eyes a few seconds, unable to recall the way Bucky's hand had pat on her waist frantically, smothering the flames. With a feeling of extreme embarrassment, she slips away and gladly takes refuge up the stairs. She goes straight for the closet in hers and Steve's room before turning on her heels and rushing to close and lock the bedroom door. She simply doesn't want to be around Bucky after that dream. Somehow, it feels to Cherise as if Bucky _knows_ that she dreamt about him. It had made her so uncomfortable, and in ways that she didn't _want_ it to make her uncomfortable. How could it have been possible to fear him _and_ be somewhat attracted to him simultaneously? As she leans against the wall and catches sight of hers and Steve's bed, the dream never leaves her mind…It had happened on that bed. Bucky was fucking her there.

            In her dream, she'd initially thought it was Steve, and when she saw that it wasn't, that just felt wrong. But it wasn't exactly as if it wasn't pleasurable. If she had kept her eyes closed, she may not ever have even thought about Bucky. She rushes to the window when she hears the familiar sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Cherise watches Steve step out of her car in relief. She opens the door and starts for the stairs, before turning on her heels again and scrambling back to their room for the dryer sheets. When she makes it to the first floor, she finds Bucky in the den, having folded all of his clothes already, standing with his arms crossed near the television. The front door opens and Steve walks in with about five shopping bags in his left hand.

            "Hey, hun. I just went to the store. Thought Bucky would like some lunch. You hungry?" he asks, closing the door with his back.

            "Sure," she adds, walking out of the den doorway. She'd only stood there with the dryer sheets, because Bucky's back was turned. She had wanted to avoid interacting with him too much. Little does she know, he'd heard her standing there the whole time and never bothered to turn around. Bucky could just _feel_ Cherise's nerves whenever he came around her. He knows that he makes her uncomfortable in some way, but he's convinced that it's only because of his arm. If it weren't for Steve, Bucky would never have recalled that he used to be a ladies' man, and women used to flock to him, not run from him. All he knows is that he doesn't want her to be afraid of him, because he doesn't want to hurt Steve's feelings. He also can't help it that he finds Cherise to be absolutely breathtaking. And beyond that, he can see exactly why Steve is making her his wife…the soldier doesn't know how to make her feel comfortable around him. He'd thought he was being respectful, nice, the kind of guy that doesn't make women nervous.

            Bucky sighs quietly, pretending he's really interested in the story that's on the news, rather than his best friend's fiancée. It makes him feel terrible because he loves Steve to death, like a brother. He's been able to remember a _lot_ from their past with Steve's help, and he knows that Steve would do anything for him. He did save him, even when Bucky was trying to kill him. How many people would never give up on you after you've hurt them? People like Steve Rogers. Sure, he'd started to become pretty close with Sam, but he feels deep down that if it hadn't been for Steve, that wouldn't be so. As far as Bucky knows, there _is_ no one like Steve, and he wouldn't have wanted to ruin their friendship over a woman.

           The first time he'd seen Cherise, Bucky had tried _really_ hard not to stare, but as soon as he'd gotten a chance, oh god. And that red dress she was wearing, he melted. And when she kept looking at his arm and trying to hide her fear, how it crushed him. The thing is, he's _used_ to people seeing his arm and being afraid of him. But Cherise isn't just any person, someone it normally wouldn't have bothered Bucky to look at him with uncertainty. She is going to be family to him, and the last thing that Bucky wants is for his own family to fear him. He reasons that he's just going to have to learn to love Cherise like a sister. Maybe she'll actually start warming up to him more.

            He listens to the sound of Steve and Cherise kissing in the hall. _They're always kissing_. He's happy for Steve, truly. But that night he spent with Sam and the couple, he started to realize that he wants what Steve has; a woman to love him, maybe even a wife. He talks to Steve, but the kind of relationship he finds himself suddenly yearning for is one that involves sex. Bucky pauses to shake his head, wondering why he's acting this way. What's left of his shoulder aches where the metallic limb is connected. Lately, it has been acting up, particularly when he finds himself in a state over something like Steve and Cherise. He isn't sure who to tell about the problem, but several times, Steve had mentioned Tony Stark, someone he knew would be able to help him with any mechanical problems. Bucky had told Steve that the arm required maintenance, depending on the extent to which he was using it. He certainly isn't using it to complete missions anymore, so the damage is minimal. Bucky reasons that he can go a bit longer before dialing up Steve's mechanic friend.

            They're talking quietly to each other in the hall, stuff about their wedding. Steve is asking Cherise if she's confirmed who will actually be showing up the following April. They kiss some more. Bucky reaches for the remote control and turns the volume up with a hard look on his face. He just feels angry now. If the washer hadn't broken at Steve's old apartment, he wouldn't have come around. But Steve had genuinely been happy to see him when he rolled up to the door. Bucky tucks the gun he'd found in the kitchen drawer further beneath the folded clean clothes in the sack he'd brought over, the gun that Steve had explicitly texted him to get rid of after leaving for the store. He didn't exactly say what to do with it, but Bucky knows that it's Natasha's. Suddenly, he wonders whether Cherise knows about the gun, and whether she knows who it belongs to. He wonders whether he'd be protecting her to just go and tell her that Steve was holding Natasha's gun, and maybe she should wonder why that is.

            Bucky doesn’t know the details, but he knows for damn sure that Steve would be out of his _mind_ to be getting into any trouble with the likes of people like Natasha Romanoff. She'd had some KGB business in her past, and Bucky would have died if anything happened to Steve or to Cherise because of Natasha. He sighs and takes a seat on the couch, softening his expression at the sound of Cherise's footsteps making it to the den. Steve is right behind her with the food.

            "I'm going to get started on these tacos, Buck," Steve explains before leaving Cherise alone with him again.

            "Great," he calls. He's not hungry; he had lost his appetite when he'd heard them kissing. He suddenly feels at ease, however; Steve had left Cherise alone with him more than once, so clearly, Steve trusts him. There was a time when this would not have been the case, when Steve was smaller than him, harder to notice, but to Bucky, no less of a good man than himself. Cherise walks over to where Bucky's sitting and smiles as she hands him the dryer sheets. To his surprise, she gets much closer to him than he'd thought she would come at all, and he doesn't feel so bad.

            Cherise allows herself closer to Bucky than she'd initially intended. She decides she feels more comfortable now that Steve's back. If Bucky was going to be dangerous, she need only scream and the Captain would come running so fast, it would have been as if he never left the room. Steve had asked her if she was okay when he came through the door. He seemed to be able to tell whenever she was nervous, no matter how hard she often tried to hide it. This is one of the things she loves about Steve, but at the same time, she doesn't want him to realize that Bucky is the reason she feels nervous because of the sex dream she'd had about him. She doesn't know him, though, so maybe Steve would have guessed she felt nervous around him because of that. Not because he used to be The Winter Soldier, or because she'd dreamt sexual things with him.

            "Thank you," he says, being sure to take the box with his flesh hand.

           

            "Yeah, it's pretty great, and it's sounding like the right job for me. Physical therapy has really helped me a lot with some injuries," Bucky admits, staring off for a moment.

            "I'd be involved in fitness instruction for veterans, and people who've had injuries, I'd be working at a gym. I know this'll go well for me…It _has_ to."

Steve grins, wanting the best for Bucky. Bucky had finished his beer and just stares out the window. Cherise is on her phone, texting. She pauses to lift her head.

            "Well, you and Steve _look_ like fitness instructors. I dunno why they wouldn't give you the job just 'cause of that. Could sell _anyone_ trying to get a gym membership." Bucky snaps out of it, and seems to be surprised that she had spoken at all. She hadn't been nearly as engaged in this conversation. Bucky laughs genuinely. Cherise smiles, and it's the same sort of smile she'd done when he'd winked at her from across the table at Christmas dinner. She had also been sort of drunk when he did that, and Bucky wonders whether it was just the alcohol that had loosened her up. He decides it isn't the case, as she hadn't joined he and Steve in drinking beers.

            "Don't worry, Buck. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm pretty sure Sam could use some help at the VA." Steve reassures, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. Bucky grins and tips his beer up to his lips. He steals another glance at Cherise. She's just about to stand up and take all of their plates to the sink. He finds himself fascinated by something in the way she moves. There's a mellifluousness in the way that she does it, that just looks amazing in the yellow dress that sashays past her knees.

            "Thanks, baby," Steve says, before asking Bucky whether he'd like another beer.

            "I think I'm all set," he grins. Baby, baby, baby. He wishes he could call her that, watching as her back is turned at the sink. She dresses really nice, and it reminds him a bit of women's fashion in the forties. Bucky feels a sense of nostalgia, and wonders then whether Cherise always dressed this way, or if Steve had that influence on her. She seems to enjoy taking care of him. Bucky's mind wanders to inappropriate places, so he tears his eyes off of Cherise and finds Steve slowly turning his beer in his hands, looking out the window in a sort of daze with a grin on his face. He can see how happy she makes him, and despite wanting her, Bucky genuinely smiles at his friend's joy.

            "And if you want, you could always pair up with me. I've been doing some jobs with Natasha and Sam from time to time," Steve continues. They and the remaining clean members of S.H.I.E.L.D. had sort of started their own new operation, and Steve was basically working for a C.I.A. sort of business, one he and Sam founded, so there could be no chance of a breach in trust. He knows that Cherise is in on this, but to what extent, he's not so sure. All he knows is what Steve told him about what she does for work. She works in forensics for the police department. She was even doing autopsies these days. He wonders then, stealing another glance at Cherise, how a pretty thing like that could stomach seeing the things she must've seen. He thinks about the gun in his sack of clothes in the den, waiting for a moment alone with Steve to inquire further about it.

            "Thanks, Steve. I know I can always count on you…I think my last load is almost done. Let me fold them, and I've got to go run some other errands," he says.

            "Don't forget the dryer sheets," Cherise says, looking over her shoulder at him at the table.

            "Yep. They're in the den," he says, standing up.

            "Wait, you're gonna want hangers for that shirt and the slacks," Steve says, following after Bucky. Cherise stays in the kitchen to finish cleaning up, and in the basement, out of sight, Bucky starts to ask Steve questions.

            "Why do you have Romanoff's gun?" he inquires, pulling a handful of his clothes out of the washing machine and emptying them into the dryer. Steve sighs.

            "She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would just _give_ someone one of her guns," Bucky adds. Steve leans against the wall. Bucky pauses in adding the dryer sheets to look at Steve. Steve finally turns to face him. His voice is low when he speaks, however, and Bucky knows that he doesn't want Cherise to hear.

            "I borrowed it the other night, forgot to give it back to her after the mission. And as soon as I walked through the door, it was really late, and then I remembered how much Cherise _hates_ guns…she doesn't like them in the house. Her big brother killed himself when she was fifteen. Her dad was a cop, kept his gun in the house."

            "Shit," Bucky says, shaking his head before grabbing the last of his damp clothes and adding them to the dryer.

            "That's tough."

            "Yeah. So, you can understand why she doesn't like guns being in the house. I was just so tired that I forgot about it, and Reese is the one who found it, too…She was pretty upset," Steve admits, and Bucky can just read the pain in his expression.

            "And I know why she feels that way, because I'll _always_ remember when I thought I'd lost you for good…I don't want her to feel like that because I brought a gun home."

            "No, I get it. That's perfectly understandable, buddy. Glad I could help you out."

            "Thanks, Buck."

Steve walks over to Bucky as he turns the knob that starts the dryer. Bucky is surprised for a moment when he feels Steve's arms close around his shoulders tightly. He smiles genuinely.

            "She's an amazing woman, Steve. I can see why you love her. You two really mean a lot to me. I'd do _anything_ for you. Whatever you need."

            "We're family, Buck."

            "End of the line, right?"

For the moment, Bucky forgets all about Cherise as he folds his arm over Steve's. When they come back up to the kitchen, Cherise is waiting with three mugs of tea on the table. She smiles at them both, and all that Bucky feels in that moment is love instead of jealousy.

 


	6. Chapter 6

            "Let me help you carry these clothes to the car," Steve insists once they've finished their discussions and Bucky has finished with his clothes. After helping Bucky load in his things, Steve pauses beside the car, after turning to face Bucky so that his back is to the house.

            "I tried calling Natasha a couple of times about the gun, 'cause I know that she wants it back. She never answered. I think she must be on vacation, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to get a hold of her. I was hoping you could just keep it at my old place in the meantime. I don't want Reese bumping into it again."

Bucky smiles at Steve's nickname for the woman.

            "Sure. I'll take good care of it. I promise," he reassures. Steve nods.

            "Thanks for letting me use your machine. There was some plumbing issue in the building, so they should have it fixed pretty soon."

            "Good. But if you ever need mine, just come back. I don't mind having you around, either," Steve says, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

            "And, uh, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

            "Yeah? What's that?" Bucky asks, pulling his keys out of his pocket and juggling them in his metallic hand absently.

            "I wasn't sure you'd be up for it. I've been wanting to ask you for a while now…"

            "…Yeah?" Bucky adds, cocking a brow interestedly.

            "Will you…will you be my best man at mine and Cherise's wedding?"

            "Steve, of _course_ I'll be your best man. Why'd you look so scared to ask?" the soldier laughs. Steve laughs.

            "I dunno. I thought you had a lot on your plate these days, you know, adjusting to the new world, finding a job, therapy…"

It's true. Bucky had recently gotten on medications for the flashbacks, which have thankfully begun to subside. Bucky shakes his head.

            "Anything for you, Rogers."

Steve grins a moment before pulling Bucky into his arms again. Cherise watches from the window in an almost sneaky way. It makes her smile to see Steve and Bucky get along so well. Deep down, she wants to stop thinking about her dream. She's thankful for Bucky and Steve's relationship. Bucky seemed to understand Steve in ways she simply could not; they grew up together in a different time. Steve had never mentioned a thing about his days in World War II, and she thought perhaps he'd never discussed those things with her on purpose, knowing how hard it was to go through losing her brother at such a young age. Steve knows the subject can be touchy for her, especially when it's so personal as to involve a friend like Bucky, a friend who is much _more_ than a friend, a family member. Cherise wonders what Steve had said to make Bucky smile so big. As his head rests over Steve's shoulder, his electric gaze catches sight of her in the window, peaking from behind a curtain. Bucky's smile doesn't fade when he sees her, but Cherise feels as if she had trespassed, and pulls her head back to hide sheepishly.

            Steve is an affectionate man, she can't help thinking, picturing the way he bear hugged his best friend. His smile is still big when he walks into the house, closing the front door behind him. He spots Cherise by the window and swoops her up by the waist, catching her off guard. He kisses her and she grins into his lips.

            "Why are you so happy?" she asks, pulling her legs around his waist. Steve starts down the hall, carrying her.

            "Bucky said yes. He's gonna be my best man."

            "You were afraid he'd say no?" Cherise cups his cheeks. Steve shrugs.

            "I wasn't sure. I know he's been stressed about finding a job, even though I keep telling him that I'll help him out for as long as he needs—I really don't mind. He wants to do something that he'll like, and I don't blame him…but I think he'll be perfectly fine. And I told him he can always come work with me and Sam and the rest if he wants. Even Stark could get him something with a decent salary. I'd pull any strings for Bucky that I can."

            "Steve, you're such a good man," says Cherise. He finally places her on the counter in the kitchen as she kisses his forehead.

            "I love you," she says. His heart races.

            "I love you, too."

She continues to caress his shoulders when he kisses her. In the process, Cherise pulls open the drawer right beside her. Steve pauses to gaze down into it.

            "You got rid of that gun, too," she says before kissing him again.

            "I said I would. I don't like it when you're not comfortable in our own house." And he feels a hint of guilt. He hadn't really gotten rid of the gun, Bucky is holding it for him, but only because it's Natasha's. If this wasn't the case, Steve would have simply thrown it in a dumpster somewhere.

 

            When Bucky returns to Steve's old apartment, he feels happy. He didn't think that he would feel that way, but he'd had the chance to listen to Cherise talk more about herself. She had grown up in Washington, D.C., attended Georgetown, double majored in chemistry and biochemistry with the dream of becoming a surgeon, got a 32 on her MCAT, but deferred an acceptance to med school to take a job offer in the area of her degree shortly after graduating, and found herself to be really interested in forensics. She was recruited for S.H.I.E.L.D. almost as soon as starting her job, and she had been working in forensics ever since. Bucky could tell how smart she was. She was also very attentive to detail—had to be in her line of work—and suddenly, while sitting across from her at the kitchen table, he had wondered whether she knew he'd taken the gun from the drawer.

            Bucky begins to put away his clean clothes, suddenly wishing that Cherise was in the kitchen in one of her breezy dresses, making him dinner. He had noticed the way that Steve kept rubbing her knee under the table, and wishes that he could touch her _at all_ without eliciting that fear in her eyes. At least she seems to be less nervous around him in Steve's presence. She's even more talkative when Steve is around. Thinking about her begins to make the soldier feel more lonely. He finishes hanging the freshly ironed dress shirt, pants, and tie on the closet door for Monday morning. He wants to look good for his interview. Bucky sits on the bed and stares out the window at the snow that has begun to fall, getting lost in its silent, cold beauty. A half-empty prescription for Paxil sits on a small dresser desk by the bed. He lies back to think even more about Cherise, what her lips might have tasted like, how she might have smelled if she'd let him close enough. He dozes off to dream about her.

            In this dream, they're holding hands and she's laughing, and even Steve is there, and he's smiling. He's with Natasha, and everyone is smiling and laughing, despite the fact that Romanoff is holding a gun, the same gun that Bucky had promised to hold onto. Suddenly, Cherise begins to cry, and drops to her knees. Bucky looks down at his side to find that her hand is crushed and broken in his metal grasp. She tugs on his arm with her free hand, crying in a piercing shriek that hurt's Bucky's ears. _No!_ He hadn't meant to—he didn't mean to. He begins to release Cherise's hand, and finds it mangled in a most gruesome way, and he hears his own voice stammering that it was an accident. He awakens atop his bedspread with unease, and looks at his metal hand, turning it to be sure Cherise's hand isn't crushed in it. He relaxes when he sees that this isn't so. The dream had hurt him no less. He picks up the glass that had been resting on the dresser and throws it hard across the room, where it shatters against the wall. Even if he _could_ be with a woman, how could he be sure he wouldn't hurt her by mistake? It's sometimes difficult for him to tell exactly how much force he's exerting with that hand; he had been so used to using it to end lives…

            Upset almost to a point of tears, Bucky stumbles out of bed. It's dark now, but he manages to grab his prescription off the dresser. He flicks on the lights as he walks about the apartment, and runs the kitchen sink hastily for a glass of water. With shaky hands, he pops a dose, and sits on the floor to pull his knees to himself and try to calm down. He doesn't want to hurt anyone anymore, least of all Cherise. The dream had really rubbed him the wrong way.

 

            When he walks out of the fitness and health center he'll be working in, he can't even feel happy about the fact that he has a job now. He wants to see Cherise and tell her about it, and have her smile at him genuinely, maybe even hug him. He wants not to have that sort of dream again. He doesn't want to feel like a bad person for liking his best friend's fiancée. He sits at the corner of a coffee shop in his car and dials Steve. Steve is pleased to hear the good news, and when he asks Bucky to come over for dinner, he's excited to have an excuse to see Cherise. But when he gets there later in the evening, Steve informs him that Cherise had gone to visit a friend for a few days, someone who lived out of state, but not too far. Bucky hides his disappointment, but at the same time, is genuinely happy to spend time with Steve. They watch a game on TV and order take-out, something called Thai food, which Bucky had never had before, but decides he really likes.

            Steve doesn’t mention Cherise again until Bucky decides to bring her up. He just couldn't resist.

            "Yeah, she's good. She's still on vacation, so that's nice. We've been working on more details for the wedding, and we're _almost_ done. She went to go round up some friends from college in person. She wants to see who's really going to be able to be a bridesmaid."

            "That's nice," Bucky says, tipping his beer to his lips and staring at the television. Steve sighs. When Bucky looks at him again, there's an odd expression on his face, one Bucky had not expected to see there on the subject of Cherise. If Bucky hadn't known any better, he would have said that Steve looked guilty.

            "What's wrong?" he asks gently. Steve turns to look at Bucky for an instant before his eyes dart away almost as if he'd been caught at something.

            "…You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

            "What?! Absolutely not. Why on God's green earth would you say that?"

            "Geez, don't be so defensive. I just thought you looked…I dunno—I didn't say anything."

Steve takes another sip of his beer.

            "I looked like what?" he asks.

            "Nothing, man. I didn't say anything." Bucky shrugs. He looks to the television, but he can still feel Steve's eyes on him. There's silence a moment. Steve sighs again.

            "Okay, Steve. What's wrong? Obviously, something is bothering you. Why else would you be makin' that noise?"

            "There's nothing wrong with me," Steve says, and Bucky detects a hint of defensiveness. Bucky finds himself unable to let it go. He turns to Steve, placing his beer on the coffee table.

            "I'm listening," he says reassuringly. Steve only stares at Bucky a moment before chugging down the rest of his beer, and when the bottle leaves his lips, he nearly chokes with the waterfall of words that spill out.

            "I cheated on Cherise—almost a _year ago_ —right around the time we really got serious," Steve admits, hyperventilating and slamming his hands over his face. Bucky can tell from the gentle tremble of Steve's shoulders that he's crying.

            "…Steve. Hey."

            "I mean, it was a heat of the moment thing, I guess. I don't know what got into me! I didn't _sleep_ with her—but I kissed someone…I…" Steve regains some composure, sniffling and wiping his eyes. Bucky places his bionic hand on Steve's shoulder. He likes that this never causes Steve to flinch or pull away, the same way that it would have caused anyone else to do. Steve gazes at Bucky out of the corner of his eye.

            "You love her, man. I can see that. It was just _one_ stupid kiss, and it happened before you and Cherise were even engaged, I'm assuming."

            "Yeah," Steve mumbles, sniffing again, wiping his nose, "It was long before I asked her to marry me…but not long after we slept together for the first time."

            It bothers Bucky to picture Steve touching Cherise sexually. He blocks the thought by patting on Steve's back reassuringly.

            "It's just…it's been _hanging_ over my head since it happened. And I feel like Cherise has a right to know—doesn't she? She's about to be my wife. I can't stand myself right now."

            "Hey, relax, Steve. It was _just_ a kiss. You didn't sleep with the other broad, did you?"

            "No," Steve says, and Bucky can tell that this is the truth.

            "Then there's nothing to be ashamed of. All this happened when you were just dating Cherise. There's nothing inherently wrong about it—"

            "But there _is._ It happened even after I told her and realized I was in love with her. I just don't understand how I could let something like that happen." Steve shakes his head, closing his eyes a long moment.

            "Do you _want_ to tell Cherise? Steve, she's crazy about you. I know she'll forgive you for just one tiny kiss. She's the one you're trying to marry, not the other broad."

Steve shrugs.

            "I just feel like a bastard for demanding she tell me all about the guys she used to date, who she's been with, when _I'm_ the one who messed up."

Bucky shudders internally at the thought of _any_ other guy trying to make love to Cherise.

            "You know what I think? I think you're over thinking this. You never had sex with this other woman—that would have been worse. You fell in love with _Cherise_ , not the other broad. Don't be so goddamn hard on yourself."

Steve sighs and sits up straight, lifts his face.

            "Yeah, I guess you're right, Bucky…I'm sorry. I'm…I'm ruining the occasion. We're supposed to be celebrating your new job, not crying about something I did."

            "It's okay…You know you can tell me anything, big guy," Bucky reassures. Steve smiles at him at last. Suddenly, Bucky wonders who exactly this other broad had been. He thinks about Natasha Romanoff's Glock sitting on his kitchen counter at home, but he refrains from asking Steve by way of letting his curiosity get the better of him. He had finally managed to calm Steve down, he doesn't want to rile him up again. But it _would_ have made perfect sense that the other woman was Natasha. So far as Bucky knows, they're still coworkers, going on missions together, spending countless hours God knows where doing God knows what. Bucky wonders whether Cherise ever ponders the thought herself. He can still see a ghost of pain in Steve's body language. Bucky knows how much it means to Steve to be faithful, honorable, trustworthy, and he knows he can't be those things by cheating on his wife. Bucky figures it would have been worse if he and Cherise were actually married at the time. It would have been a sin.

            Bucky inches closer on the couch to pull an arm around Steve's shoulder and pat him comfortingly.

            "So, friends and family get discounts to the gym and equipment. It finally started snowing, too, so you're not gonna wanna be slipping and sliding every day on your run. You should swing by and earn me some points with my boss," Bucky explains. Steve laughs, and Bucky keeps talking to him until he can't see a trace of guilt in Steve's expression. He cares about Steve, and it had genuinely hurt him to see how upset he was for cheating on Cherise. If the woman Steve had made out with was in fact Romanoff, Bucky would not have been surprised if the redhead had seduced him in the first place. There's something so delicately innocent about Steve that Bucky believes some women would have taken advantage of if they could. Steve isn't used to getting attention from women, something Bucky had figured out the more he remembers from his past. He thinks that perhaps this is even why Steve asked Cherise to marry him rather early in their relationship. Bucky leans back on the couch.

            "How's Peggy Carter?" And as soon as her name slips out of his mouth, Bucky regrets asking. He realizes he has no idea whether the woman is even alive anymore. He doesn't want to make Steve sad again. To Bucky's surprise, Steve actually smiles, but it's more of a nostalgic smile.

            "She has Alzheimer's pretty bad…I know it won't be long before she goes. I visited her on Sunday. Cherise even came with me. She's been wanting to meet her for a while. It's hard, though, because every time I go to see her, she's forgets that I came before, and it's just…" Steve sighs.

            "I'm sorry," Bucky says, meaning it.

            "I've even thought about not going to see her anymore, but…I think I'd feel awful once she passes if I didn't at least get to say goodbye. And Cherise even begged me to pretend she was just a friend, not my fiancée. She didn't want to hurt Peggy's feelings." Bucky finds himself at a loss for words.

            "Bucky, what about _you_? I've got to set you up with someone special. You can't just sit in my apartment all day—"

            "Steve, I just got a job. I won't be sitting in your apartment all day," Bucky interrupts casually, keeping his eyes fixed to the screen. Steve laughs.

            "Come on, you used to get all the ladies. There's no reason you can't settle down now—"

            "Steve, _look_ at me," Bucky says, a bit more angrily than he'd intended to. He lifts his metal arm and turns it.

            "Every time I see a broad, she stares at the goddamn thing like I'm some kind of… _freak_."

            "Bucky…"

            "I'm just…I'm not ready to date right now."

Steve doesn't push him. Bucky reaches for his beer again and busies himself drinking it. It isn't that he's not interested, but he's not interested in women, he's interested in _Cherise_.

            "Okay. I'm sorry. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do…how about a boy's night out? You, me, Sam, I've got a couple of other friends you might like to get to know. In time, we can be your wingmen…Come on, Buck. You're just as handsome as you used to be. It's just an arm."

 _Just an arm_. Bucky's blood boils for a moment, so he looks away from Steve, fighting the urge to squeeze his Heineken to breaking point. He knows that Steve means well, but he _doesn't understand_. It's one thing to be really strong and be able to _completely_ feel and control all of the things you're doing, but it's not the same as having a bionic arm. Sometimes, the thing seems to have a mind of its own, and Bucky would find himself grabbing a doorknob and not be able to let go, squeeze it until it crumbles beneath his shiny fist. Bucky knows this is mainly from not having had the limb maintained in months since escaping HYDRA. He simply hadn't wanted anyone near it, didn't want to feel like an experiment anymore. Steve had obviously learned to be gentle with Cherise, but Bucky couldn't be sure that he was capable of it with the arm. Something could have happened if he'd have tried to hold a woman's hand, like in his dream. He shakes his head, wanting to be rid of it.

            "Well, _thanks_ , Steve, but like I said. I'm just not ready for that right now. One thing at a time. Okay?"

            "Okay, Bucky. I'm sorry…I just want to know you're being taken care of. Cherise takes good care of me, and I'm grateful for that, because I know I could get along on my own, but…it's just different having a woman around." Steve says this with a dreaminess in his voice that makes Bucky want to roll his eyes. He laughs instead, hiding his fury. Steve slaps Bucky playfully in the chest.

 

            Bucky is glad for an excuse to see Cherise on the new year. Sam brings the friends Steve was talking about to their place, and they talk and drink for hours before watching the ball drop. Steve had even managed to get Tony Stark to come by, with some pretty woman named Pepper, and talk to Bucky about possibly maintaining his arm. Tony had basically introduced himself in half a second before trying to open up Bucky's arm. Bucky didn't have a chance to object before Stark pulled something out and he couldn't move it. But he'd fixed something that had been making it tick, promising to do more when he had a complete toolset around. Bucky decides that it's probably a good idea. His shoulder had been acting up again that night, but the funny thing is, it hadn't started until he saw Cherise, heard her voice.

           

            Steve contemplates coming clean to Cherise about kissing Natasha as they lie in bed together the day after their New Year's party. It was mostly a mistake, but he'd spent so much time with Natasha that he knew her more than he knows Cherise. There's a way that he feels comfortable with Natasha that he can't really explain. It's a comfort that he can't share with Cherise because she hasn't been where he's been and seen the things that he's seen. She _has_ seen the aftermath of all the killing, death that often results from other people's lies, but it's not the same. Natasha had spent so much time trying to set Steve up with other women that he was blind to the fact that it had been _Natasha_ all along that wanted to be with him. Unfortunately, she didn't decide to make the first move until after he'd fallen for Cherise. Regardless, Steve blames himself. He'd had _plenty_ of chances to tell Natasha he was finally dating someone, but he never did. He reasons that part of him was onto her and wanted to wait for her to make the first move, just in case he was wrong. It wasn't until he pulled Natasha aside one night, after a mission where he'd saved her life, like he had several times, that she finally kissed him and told him how she felt. By then it was too late, but Steve remembers kissing Natasha back. It must have been five complete seconds where he was doing so, before he felt a pang of guilt and thought about how much he loved Cherise. He'd told Natasha that he was with someone new, that he still cared for her very much, but she let him know how she felt too late.

            It had been kind of awkward between them after that, especially because Steve honestly cares for Natasha. He thinks all of this while caressing Cherise's hip beneath the sheet. The problem with Natasha had been that he really was in love with Cherise, never mind how much his feelings had developed for Romanoff. Cherise shifts her chin to his chest.

            "Why do you look so upset?" she asks, pushing her hands through his hair and kissing his chest sweetly.

            "Do I?"

            "Yes."

            "I was just thinking, baby." Steve makes eye contact with Cherise, hoping he'll stop thinking about Natasha.

            "You were about to tell me what you'd name our daughter if we have one, and then you just…trailed off."

Steve smiles, focusing on Cherise.

            "Christina," he grins, running his hands down Cherise's naked back. Her breasts sink warmly into his stomach, and he tries to focus instead on the feel of her skin against him.

            "Christina Rogers," Cherise says, trying it on, eying the ceiling a moment to ponder it.

            "I like it," Cherise admits.

            "What about for a boy?"

            "Hmm, I haven't thought about that much. I always saw myself having a daughter…if it _is_ a boy, I already know that his middle name has to be James."

            Cherise flinches slightly, hiding it by laughing. The last thing she wants to think about while in bed with Steve is Bucky. He'd brought Bucky up so casually. Cherise sighs before admitting that James is a nice name. Steve has closed his eyes and doesn't see the uneasy expression on Cherise's face. She starts kissing the Captain frantically, hoping that Bucky will disappear from her thoughts the more she does it, and it works, for the moment.

 

            When Cherise and Steve show up at Bucky's station at the gym, he's genuinely surprised to see them both. Bucky tells himself not to look at Cherise at all, as she leans against Steve's shoulder in those goddamn tight track pants women seem to enjoy wearing to the gym. Her midriff is somewhat exposed in the matching athletic top she's wearing. Cherise excuses herself to make her way to the treadmills while Steve's eye catches the vacant punching bag. Bucky's eyes wander over to it and he grins. They take turns at it for a little over half an hour, and right when Steve goes to fill his water bottle at the fountain, Cherise walks Bucky's way, wiping sweat from her brow. She is utterly drenched and glistening, heat at the surface of her flesh. Bucky controls himself, tearing his eyes away, but this does nothing to quell the ache that has begun to build up below his waist.

            "Having fun?" he asks casually, looking instead in Cherise's eyes. She laughs a bit breathlessly before squirting more water into her mouth. Bucky grips the punching bag. She nods.

            "You like working here?" she asks.

            "Oh, yeah. It's great. They have sessions for veterans a few days a week, and I get to help out in those. There are all kinds, old and young…" he grins. Cherise smiles and he notices her look away, almost as if she hadn't meant to smile.

            "Yeah, Steve told me friends and family get discounts since you work here, so we both signed up for new memberships," Cherise explains. Bucky steals a glance to where she's looking to find that she's looking at Steve. His back is turned at the fountain, but both can tell he's talking on the phone. Cherise's smile fades.

            "That's great."

            "Yeah, I quit my old gym because this seemed like a good idea. We're happy to support you any way we can, James."

His heart races. She tends to call him by his name, which normally would have bothered him, but if it's Cherise, she could call him anything she wanted, so long as it was him she was addressing.

            "That's really thoughtful," Bucky admits. Finally, Cherise looks him in the eyes again.

            "And Sam said he would join," she adds.

            "The more the merrier."

            "That's _exactly_ what Steve said," Cherise says, pointing over at him with her thumb. Bucky likes that Cherise would compare him to someone she likes. It was a start. Steve's expression is a little aggravated when he makes his way back over to Cherise and Bucky. He sighs once within earshot.

            "Guys, I'm sorry. I've gotta go help out with something. I've gotta go right now."

Steve clutches Cherise's sweaty waist and kisses her hastily.

            "I'm sorry. Bucky, can you give Cher a ride home?" He doesn't even wait for an answer as he takes off. Cherise stands there with both hands raised as if to ask a question, but Steve has already made his way to the exit. Bucky can tell how disappointed she is. He absently punches the bag very lightly.

            "Did you want to work out some more? Might as well, since you're here. Or if you want me to take you home now, we can—"

            "No, no, no. You're right…and you know, I've actually been wanting to try these things for the longest time, but I never did because the guys were always hogging them."

Bucky laughs.

            "Do you want to spot me, or whatever it is?" Cherise asks, taking a step closer to the bag.

            "Alright."

He feels his heart racing uncontrollably as he helps Cherise wrap her hands up in that white gauze he's required to make people use if they want to work out at the bags. She even laughs when he jokes that he promises he's not trying to mummify her.

            Cherise is actually comfortable for once being alone with Bucky. She has a strong feeling that she'll be just fine without Steve. He clearly trusts Bucky with his life, and anyone that Steve trusts to that degree, Cherise knows couldn't really be dangerous to her. But Bucky is dangerous to her for other reasons, reasons she has been trying to ignore since her dream about him. Bucky seems to be putting in serious effort to make her laugh, and she reasons that he doesn't want her to focus on his arm. The less she stares at it, the more human he seems. He never moves an inch as she punches and kicks the bag with all the strength she can muster. She feels herself begin to sweat again, and knows that half the reason is her activity, while the other is from the intensity of Bucky's electric blue gaze. Perhaps he hadn't realized that she has it in her to be violent under the right circumstances. She's enjoying herself until she hooks incorrectly and feels a strange pinch in her wrist.

            Inhaling sharply through barred teeth, she pulls back and shakes her right hand gingerly. Bucky's face floods with worry almost instantly, and he starts to step from behind the bag.

            "Are you okay?" he asks.

            "I—I think I just," Cherise tries to catch her breath. The next thing she knows, Bucky is unwrapping her hand. The wrist is red where it begins to swell. She curses and Bucky tries to reassure her that it's just a sprain. When he offers to put ice on it, she follows him to the employee lounge where there's a freezer full of ice packs. No one really seems to be around, since it's the end of the day on a Sunday, and Cherise quickly notices how quiet it is as Bucky pulls open the white door of a freezer. She sits on the arm of a couch, eying her wrist and unwrapping the other one. She stands when Bucky turns around and closes the gap between them.

            "Steve is gonna kill me," he says, shaking his head. He holds Cherise's arm gently in his warm, flesh grip, and for a moment she stares at the way his hands are large, like Steve's, wrapping around her arm completely. A nervousness builds up in her again as she focuses on Bucky's worried expression, the eyebrows pinched together.

            "What? It wasn't your fault," she says, a lot softer than she thought she was going to say it. He laughs, continuing to observe her swollen wrist. She realizes that Bucky understands just how protective Steve is. Bucky smacks the ice pack on his knee for a second before very gingerly applying it to Cherise's wrist. She winces and his grip automatically loosens further than it already was. His eyes are wide when they dart down to meet hers.

            "I'm sorry," he says.

Her heart pangs. His strong jaw drops slightly, as if he wants to say something more, but can't.

            "It's fine. I won't die," Cherise says comfortingly.

            "Yeah…you seemed pretty tough out there," Bucky says. And she blinks more, feeling shy under his cerulean stare. It's too quiet between them for far too long. Cherise doesn't move an inch when she notices the way that Bucky's head slowly tilts to the side, and he just moves in without warning. Cherise grips the block of ice and it's chill is much less inviting than the warmth of Bucky's lips. She'd closed her eyes, even. She cuts the explosion short by pulling away, dropping the ice pack. Bucky looks at her with this fascination that Cherise distinctly sees every time that Steve looks at her. She shakes her head, knowingly.

            "I really couldn't help it," Bucky admits, and the fascination fades, only to be replaced by guilt. His metal fingers are trembling when he brings them to his lips, touching a bit of Cherise that had been left behind, his eyes wandering to the side and closing before he sighs.

            "I'm sorry," she breathes, taking a few more steps back. Bucky opens his eyes.

            "I should go."

            "Wait," Bucky says, hating the desperation that rings on his voice. To his surprise, Cherise stops at the door. She keeps her back to him.

            "You don't have a ride," he says casually.

            "…I'll get a cab, thanks," she says, walking out of his sight. The moment he'd done it, he knew he'd betrayed Steve. The thing was, he could even _feel_ Cherise letting it happen, almost as if she had wanted it to.


	7. Chapter 7

            First she was terrified of him, and now she wants to fuck him? Why can't she get over that dream? She starts wondering if it was better when she was afraid of Bucky, rather than attracted to him. As the cab turns down her street, she starts thinking about hers and Steve's wedding, the baby they'll have in the future, and she is finally able to forgive herself. Why the hell does Bucky have to be so attractive?! She was practically in estrus around him back there, and then she reminds herself that the body releases all kinds of hormones from runner's high, and she nods her head. As she stumbles through the front door, she finds her hands shaking. She cannot believe that Bucky had actually _kissed_ her. At the same time, she recalls how regretful he'd looked soon after doing it. She knows that he doesn't want to hurt Steve, and neither does she. Bucky said he really couldn't help it. Had he been restraining himself since they'd met?

            She tries to tell herself that they were both just really energetic, working out, sweating. It wouldn't have happened otherwise. Cherise makes her way into the kitchen for a glass of chocolate milk and drags herself to the shower. She decides that she's going to have to avoid Bucky for as long as possible. What if he tries to kiss her again? She's not sure she'd have been able to pull away a second time. Something about him reminds her of Steve, and that is a bad thing. At this, she reassures herself even more of her faithfulness: If it was Steve she'd been thinking about, then that has to mean her heart lies with him, and _only_ him.

            "Shut up!" she tells herself aloud, stopping all thoughts.

 

            When Cherise hears the front door opening, she stands up straight from bed, where she'd been sitting in her towel since showering two hours ago. She throws the item off and rushes down the stairs to find Steve locking the door.

            "Reese," he calls, but when he turns around to see that she's rushing down the stairs completely naked, he's taken aback a moment. There's a bruise on his cheek and he's still wearing the white tank top, blue shorts, and Nikes he'd worn to the gym. Cherise walks right up to him.

            "Honey, you okay? …Why are you naked?"

She doesn't bother answering and instead, pulls the shield out of his hand, throws it aside, where it lands on the floor with a loud _clang_ , and starts to tug on his shirt. He stands there in what looks like confusion as Cherise finally gives up fumbling with the tank top and rips it off, pulling it down his beautiful, toned arms. She jumps up to wrap her arms around his neck and kisses him like it's the last time she'll ever have a chance to. His tongue reacts automatically, he moans into her mouth, and his hands cup her rear before she throws herself back as hard as she can to get him to start towards the floor. Slowly, the Captain kneels.

            "Whoa," he says, his eyes wide before a small smirk graces his face. Cherise pulls on his shorts.

            "Take them off right now," she breathes frantically, able to get them down to his knees.

            "Cher…are you feeling okay?"

She ignores him and starts on his boxer briefs next. He allows her to pull them down as far as she'd been able to get his shorts.

            "Hold on. Wait," he says, grabbing her wrists, smiling. She doesn't even notice the pain from spraining one of them at the gym. Cherise leans in despite this and begins nibbling on his neck and clavicle, biting more passionately than she normally would have. Steve only laughs.

            "Hey—ow. Haha…are you alright?" he asks.

            "Steve, _fuck_ _me_ ," she demands, pulling him down as hard as she can, until he finally moves, lowering himself against the floor, and she parts her legs to straddle him from the underside. Normally, he hated to hear women swear, but the f word rolling off Cherise's tongue suddenly arouses him. His right hand cradles the back of her head so that it can't make contact with the floor.

            "Don't you want to get in bed first?" he asks gently, and she stops biting at his neck to take a look at his face. His eyes are still kind of wide with surprise, and he's looking a little worried. She had straight up jumped him as soon as he walked through the door.

            "No—right now," she pleads, reaching under to grip him. She begins to rub him frantically and he moans, his free hand drawing into a tight fist against the floor, and his wheat gold lashes fluttering shut. There's a slight _thud_ beside her head as Steve slams his fist against the floor, teeth bearing tightly, the more she fusses with him. It's not long before he's hard, and she hastily directs him inside desperately. Steve wastes no time in rolling his hips forth, starting in that tantalizingly gentle way that he always does. Cherise pants, grabbing all over the Captain's back, knocking her hips up against him with frustration. His eyes are full of lust and need when he looks down at her. Steve during sex is a different kind of Steve, one that makes Cherise wet quickly.

            She starts scratching all over Steve's back desperately, tilting her chin to the ceiling and moaning out loud. The Captain pauses to place these wet, warm kisses all over her neck and she starts shivering out of control. Cherise begins to throw her waist upwards again desperately, begging.

            "Steve, fuck me," she breathes, pushing her hands through his hair and pulling it with frustration at the back of his head. He moans into her skin and braces himself upon his forearms, planting them at Cherise's sides before giving her what she asked for. She can't catch her breath a moment when Steve sinks himself as deeply as possible, his taut stomach making contact with her own. He rolls his hips evenly, but not as fast as she had hoped for. At last, Cherise slaps her hands roughly on his shoulders and lifts her head to look him dead in the eyes.

            "Steve, _fuck me_." His eyes widen with surprise at her genuine vexation.

            "Harder," she breathes, wrapping her arms around his neck again. This is the first time she has actually vocalized that he's not moving the way she wants him to. He'd thought that her bucking her hips back up at him was just an attempt to tell him she was enjoying herself. He'd been sure he was doing it right all this time, her moans told him so. He hadn't been going at a rougher pace out of concern for Cherise. It doesn't take much for him to knock a person out or break through a locked door with his bare hands, and he didn’t want to bring that sort of strength to the bedroom. But as she begins to stare up at him pleadingly, the Captain acquiesces. He gives a rough thrust that causes Cherise to slide up the floor just a little bit. Her expression morphs into one he normally only sees when she has an orgasm. He makes the same ardent motion a second time with a grunt upon realizing just how good it is, watching as Cherise's eyes open and she lifts her head up off the floor to touch her forehead to Steve's lovingly.

            "Yeah—like that," she breathes, rubbing his back, gasping when he continues, and doesn't stop. She grips the back of his neck, pushing her hand through his hair intermittently, which feels good. Her moans become more like loud cries and shrieks, but to Steve's relief, he knows he's not hurting her, as she keeps telling him to do it just like that, pulling him tight and throwing her head back in an ecstatic way. He'd never heard her moan quite like this, with this magnitude of volume and pleasurable agony. Her body begins to quiver beneath him, and suddenly he feels her tighten around him on the inside, and he has to stop and recognize his orgasm, in tandem with Cherise's. She mutters his name repeatedly, legs shaking, clawing all over his back deeply. She doesn't usually make it to this point quite so dramatically when he's on top, but he feels a sense of accomplishment that he can't quite describe. He reasons that they have reached a new level in the act, one that he hopes will repeat itself from that point forward. Cherise's animation had really turned him on.

            "Holy hell," he says, catching his breath. Cherise covers her face shyly with both hands and Steve laughs. She hadn't expected him to; he had looked quite scared the third time she ordered him to fuck her. She thought he wouldn't have understood what she wanted.

            "You're insane, Cherise," he says. And when she looks at him, he's smiling lewdly, his eyes twinkling.

            "I didn't know you could get that loud," he admits. She covers her face again and peeks at him from between her fingers.

            "But that was…that was incredible," he admits, and he sounds like he's on cloud nine.

            "In fact, I think that was the best sex we've ever _had_."

She finally laughs and gazes up at the sculpted man on top of her. She cups his cheek.

            "Wow," he says. And she laughs some more.

 

            Steve informs Cherise that Bucky is coming over for dinner on Friday night, and Cherise makes up the excuse that she had already made plans with a friend to go out—no men allowed. Steve buys her lie, and she _hates_ lying to him, but she's doing it because she doesn't want to be around Bucky. She had already hidden her sprained wrist rather effectively, and she doesn't want Steve to be angry with Bucky for actually giving her tips at the punching bag the previous weekend. She doesn't come home until one in the morning, at which point, Steve is still sitting awake in the den, not really watching the television. He's already starting towards her down the hall after hearing the front door open. He had called her earlier in the night, and she'd texted him a couple of times to keep him sane. She knew he liked to worry about her.

            "Late night, Mrs. R?" he asks, sliding her purse off her shoulder and unzipping her coat to put them both on the rack. She smiles up at him.

            "Steve…did you wait up for me? You didn't have to," she says, touching his cheek a moment.

            "I just…wanted to be able to say goodnight," he grins.

            "I told you I was going to be out late, and that I was going to be _fine_." In truth, she'd actually just gone to the mall and spent some time reading at a Barnes  & Noble. Steve yawns rather loudly. Cherise kicks off her boots and cups his chin, laughing.

            "You big baby," she says before kissing him, "Let me put you to bed. Come on, Captain Sleepy." She grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs. She can tell he had already showered, as he trails after her in his pajama pants, laughing tiredly. Steve pauses right beside the bed to pull Cherise up into his arms.

            "Oh, hello," she says, feeling her feet leave the ground.

            "Okay. I _was_ worried about you. I can't help it. I love you."

His velvety voice reverberating against her body makes her weak in the knees. She knows that Steve is used to losing people after all he's been through, and finds it hard to blame him.

            "You too, Captain Sleepy." He laughs when she kisses him a handful of times before letting her down. Steve sits down and yawns again as Cherise begins to undress.

            "What did you have for dinner?" she asks, throwing her blouse into the hamper, pulling her tights and underwear off from under the skirt to add them to the pile. She disappears into the walk in closet to hang her skirt back up. She plans to wear it to work again on Monday before doing laundry.

            "Uh, we ordered Indian food. Bucky said it was spicy, but he ate it anyway." Cherise hadn't really thought about Bucky since she and Steve had intense sex on the floor the previous Sunday night. She sighs.

            "Yeah?"

            "I can't wait to get him to try sushi. He hasn't had that yet," Steve calls from the room. She's glad he can't see her guilty expression from where she stands in the closet.

            "But I think he liked the food tonight…it was kinda strange for me, too, the first time you took me out for it. Remember that, Cher?"

            "Of course I do, baby," she calls, smiling to herself when she pictures Steve's expression after he'd eaten something spicy. Steve laughs, and the sound warms her heart. She steps out of the closet naked, and Steve is resting on his back with closed eyes. She crawls up to him and straddles him. He opens one eye to glance at her, and then both, whistling slyly. She laughs, and his warm hands clamp onto her waist.

            "I'm sorry, honey. You're _beautiful_ , but I'm so tired that I can't lift my head. It's been a long week—"

            "Shhhh," she says, leaning down to simply lie on him. He sighs.

            "That feels good," he mumbles tiredly.

He passes a hand down her back and rubs it in lazy circles.

            "Jeez. I've been trying to figure out who to pair Bucky up with. He acts like he doesn't want a girlfriend, but I know he's just a bit self-conscious about his arm…if you have any single girlfriends who are looking for a handsome man, just let me know. I'd prefer it if he'd have a date to our wedding, so he doesn't feel weird or left out around everybody else."

            "Okay, Steve. I'll keep you posted."

She kisses his neck before getting up to go and shower. Maybe that thing that had happened between her and Bucky was just a complete misunderstanding. Cherise racks her brain for anyone she knows who might be interested. She doesn't think that Bucky's arm should discourage anyone; he's otherwise sweet, funny, easy to talk to, and _incredibly_ good-looking. She stops thinking right there.

 

            Steve hasn't been able to get a hold of Natasha come March, and he begins to wonder whether she ever even got the wedding invitation he _knows_ he and Cherise sent her. He finds himself starting to worry a bit as he sits at the counter in his old apartment while Bucky opens him a beer. Natasha _had_ contacted Sam earlier that week, who had let Steve know she was doing some favors overseas and wasn’t sure when she'd be back in the States.

            "Wish I could help you, bro. Like I said, I'll hold onto this thing as long as you want…" Bucky can't help but wonder whether Steve's concern for Natasha is more than professional. He hopes it's not, because he would _hate_ to see Cherise upset, and he also hopes that it _is_ so that Cherise and Steve break up. Maybe then he'd have a chance with her. He tells himself he's being a bad friend to think the latter. The wedding is otherwise all finalized, and so far as Steve can tell, he's not having cold feet. Things have been really good between him and Cherise. He shouldn't be thinking about other women. Ever since Cherise had made it clear that she liked for him to be rougher during sex, they hadn't been able to stop. He grins to himself thinking about this, and can't wait for their honeymoon. Things had sort of slowed down again at home with both of them back at work after the holidays.

            "I'm just glad you're back, Bucky. I know I say it practically every time we hang out, but I mean it."

Bucky smiles.

            "I'll drink to that," he grins. They clink beers before taking a sip.

            "You think Cherise would ever get one of those…" Steve's nose wrinkles up, as if he smells something foul, "Male strippers for her bachelorette party?"

            " _Men_ strip now?" Bucky asks genuinely, "I dunno, Steve. She doesn't seem to me to be the kind of woman who likes that sort of thing. She seems really classy to me." Bucky realizes that it's been weeks since he's actually seen Cherise. She hasn’t showed up at the gym, either, despite Steve going regularly. He'd told Bucky the previous week that Cherise preferred fresh air when running because it's supposed to be better for you. Steve laughs.

            "I just want it to be us guys for mine. _No_ women, you know?"

            "…I'm really glad you said that, 'cause now I have a reason to get Sam to stop trying to make plans to surprise you with a strip club," Bucky admits with wide eyes. Steve cocks a brow, turning slowly to Bucky. He shakes his head.

            "And I _told_ him you wouldn't go for that sort of thing."

Steve laughs again.

 

            On her wedding day, Cherise finds herself unable to remain calm. She doesn't understand why her nerves are so out of control, because she's really happy to be marrying Steve. But as she fans herself in the back room of a church, her bridesmaids surrounding her and telling her how beautiful she looks, she feels as if she might faint. She's afraid the dress will tear, or maybe her makeup is wrong. It isn't until her mom places a hand on her shoulder that she's able to take a deep breath. She and Steve haven't seen each other all week. It was their idea to make the occasion worth looking forward to even more. They wanted to be desperate to see each other, so Steve had been camping out at Bucky's.

            Bucky continues to offer his support by the altar with Steve, who's clearly nervous when he straightens his tie for the fifth time. Regardless, the Captain keeps a smile on his face. Bucky tells him an eighteenth time that everything's going to be fine. Steve had spent so much time fussing over the right way to gel his hair back every night that it was really driving Bucky mad.

            "Okay. I'm good," Steve promises, closing his eyes a moment.

            "Thank God," Bucky says jokingly with a sigh of relief.

When Steve opens his eyes again, a flash of red catches them. He hadn't expected to see Natasha. She takes her seat beside a few of Cherise's aunts, looking around innocently, as if she _isn't_ scanning the crowd for Steve. Clearly, she'd gotten the wedding invitation; her peach dress matches the color scheme, and it almost looks like she could have been one of the bridesmaids. His heart pounds a moment as their eyes lock. Natasha actually smiles slightly, and Steve's lips curl up, but the rest of his expression feels…sorry.

             He tries to put himself in Natasha's shoes. What would it feel like if he were watching Cherise marry Bucky? He turns to look at his friend, who's already looking at Natasha. Before Steve can say anything, Bucky makes a beeline for the redhead. If only she had been honest with Steve about her feelings earlier, maybe it would be Natasha in that back room waiting to vow herself to Steve. Steve watches as Natasha quickly hones in on Bucky. For a moment, she looks perturbed, before calming down. Rarely did Natasha's expression exude fear, if she actually felt it. Bucky leans over the pew to whisper something into her ear, and Steve wonders whether he's telling her he has her Glock at his place. Suddenly, seeing Bucky beside Natasha like that looks right. Steve starts wondering if maybe _they_ should be together. Bucky had utterly refused to have a blind date to the wedding, putting his foot down when Steve tried to bring it up again. He'd said he just wasn’t ready to date, the same thing he's been saying for months.

            When Bucky resumes his spot at Steve's side, he doesn't say anything about the gun. Natasha had not verbally responded to him. She'd simply continued to look on as if Bucky were a ghost, before nodding when  he was finished whispering into her ear. When Cherise walks out on her father's arm, Steve nearly drops to his knees. He has to close his eyes a moment to make sure he's not dreaming, but when he opens them and Cherise is still making her way towards him with a few tears on her cheeks, he knows it's not a dream. He'd never seen Cherise so beautiful, radiant, yet all the while, his eye catches on a flame of red sitting in the third pew with no expression, no readable emotion on her face. Natasha remains stoic. Despite not being able to wait until Cherise makes it to him, he finds himself desperately wondering what the hell is going through Natasha's head. But he places a ring on Cherise's finger with steady and sure hands, as does she, and everything seems to come full circle. Little had he known that Bucky's heart was crumbling at his side all the while.

 

            Bucky can't believe his senses as he continues to sway with Cherise in his arms. After hers and Steve's dances together, everybody had joined, but at a point where there was slow music playing, Steve had practically shoved his wife into Bucky's arms. All he knows is that she smells really good and she's warm. She seems utterly fragile beneath the weight of his metal limb, and he thanks himself mentally for letting Stark tinker with the thing. He wasn't going to let his nightmare come true. Bucky glances over at Steve, who's dancing with Natasha. Her eyes are closed and Steve is staring on into space, and there's this strange longing on his face that Bucky doesn't think should be there. Cherise had let her head rest against Bucky's chest, and he wonders whether she had closed her eyes like Natasha, who looks almost as if she never wants to let Steve go.

            By the time the song ends, Bucky's flesh palm had grown sweaty at the small of Cherise's back, and he feels so nervous that she'll notice. Instead, she just smiles and stands on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

            "Thank you _so_ much for coming and being Steve's best man. He was afraid you'd say no, for some reason. You really mean a lot to us." This catches Bucky off guard and he stands there as if he's still holding her a moment after she had turned around to go back to Steve. Natasha releases Steve, smiling in a friendly way at the approaching bride, and they hug like they've been friends forever. He finds Steve looking away, this strange nostalgia on his face. Bucky decides he won't ask any uninvited questions tonight. Steve's supposed to be happy. He looks much happier when Cherise is in his arms again. His eyes trail after Natasha, and Bucky doesn't even notice her coming at him until she's close enough to talk so that only the two of them can hear. Despite this, she still addresses him in Russian.

            "Мой пистолет."

            "…Теперь?"

Natasha turns her head to look back at Steve and Cherise dancing slowly, clinging to each other, despite the fact that the music isn't a slow song at the moment. Bucky wonders whether it pains her to see Steve like that the same way that it pains _him_ to see Cherise like that.

            "I guess we can stay a little bit longer," Natasha explains, "Have some more drinks."

            "Why were you gone for so long? I've been keeping that thing at my place since December," he informs.

            "Well, I don't really think it's any of your business," she says, her red eyebrow cocking, "I mean, _you_ shot me before, remember? The least you can do is hold my gun while I'm absent."

Bucky shrugs and fights the urge to laugh. He doesn't remember doing this, of course, but Steve had told him all about the scar, the story Natasha had told him about The Winter Soldier.

            "Actually, I don't remember shooting you. I'm sorry, ma'am. But that was a completely different guy. Not me." Natasha only stares at him.

            "Nice to meet you, Natasha. My name is Bucky Barnes," he says, shaking her hand. She looks him up and down with no expression as he grins. Her stoicism doesn't faze him. It's one of the few things about the way the Russians had trained him as The Winter Soldier that he hasn't forgotten. She simply refuses to show him any sign of amusement, if she feels it.

            "Мой пистолет," she says.

 

 

            Bucky relaxes as Natasha follows him in her alluring black car. Steve and Cherise are now headed to Hawaii for the next two weeks. The soldier thinks that it will give him some sanity to just plain not have access to Cherise and Steve for a while. When he makes it up to Steve's old apartment, Natasha is dogging his heels.

            "Calm down, wouldja?" he says, pausing in unlocking the door to look back at her stern brows and crossed arms behind him. She's finally showing him _something_. He laughs, knowing that she finds him annoying. When he picks up the gun off the kitchen counter, she starts a moment, ready to attack. Bucky sighs.

            " _Relax_ , Romanoff. It's not even loaded. If I wanted to shoot you, I'd have done it before I got home…I'd really appreciate it if everyone would stop treating me like I'm some kind of serial killer. 'Cause I promise you, I'm not."

            She takes the gun from him, inspects it, finds that it is, in fact, not loaded. Bucky leans against the counter, tapping his foot. She cocks the Glock and points it at Bucky with one hand, finger on the trigger. His sly grin fades until he sort of glares at her. Natasha stares back, aiming right between his eyes. Both of them know that no one is getting shot, but something about this makes them both feel something. Seconds pass, damn near a full minute. Bucky reaches for the gun and slowly puts his metal hand over the small hole in the tip, his fingers gradually making contact with Natasha's hand. She continues to stare ahead at him blankly. He brings her hand down to the counter top and pulls the gun loose before pushing it aside a ways. Even if the gun _had_ been loaded, neither of them would have been afraid.

            They stare at each other a few moments longer before she starts towards him at the same time as he starts towards her. Bucky fumbles with the woman as she steps backwards towards the couch, slipping out of her heels, their mouths attached shamelessly. He pauses to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder before hauling her to the bedroom.

           

            "…Was that your first fuck in over sixty years?" Natasha asks, staring at the ceiling, the same place where Bucky is staring. They feel awkward beside each other.

            "You don't have to be a bitch anymore, Romanoff," he breathes. She laughs.

            "I didn't say you were _bad_. You weren't bad. It's just…I was curious."

            "…Yes. That was my first fuck since the forties. Happy?"

She laughs and Bucky smiles reluctantly. Neither of them have yet realized that they were thinking about Cherise or Steve the entire time. Bucky turns to look at The Black Widow. It's not as if he'd never wondered what she looks like naked, but he doesn't exactly feel fulfilled after sleeping with her. She sighs and closes her eyes, and Bucky eyes the scar above her hip. As soon as he'd seen it, he knew it was the same place where The Winter Soldier had given her a bullet some years ago.

            "Yeah," she breathes, pushing a hand through her disheveled hair, "You weren't bad, Barnes. Don't be so… _hard_ on yourself." He hears the grin in her voice and smiles again.

            "You're really vulgar for a woman," he says. Natasha laughs.

He presses his thumb over the scar and Natasha gasps, sitting up straight. He follows suit slowly as she turns to stare at him, her expression stern like it had been at the front door.

            "…I'm sorry," he says delicately.

            "Yeah," she says blankly, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. He knows she's going to leave now. He sighs. It had been nice to simply lie next to someone, even if it wasn't the woman he wanted to be lying next to.

            "Cherise, I—"

Natasha pauses in reaching for her dress on the floor. Bucky had stopped talking almost as quickly as he'd started. The Freudian slip was already accounted for. He swears below his breath. Natasha turns to look at him with an eyebrow sky high.

            "I _knew it_ ," she says, looking at him like he's guilty of something. Natasha even points at him. Bucky sighs and looks away, pushing a hand through his hair.

            "You should have seen your face at that altar," Natasha says, but suddenly, her voice is much softer than it had been a moment ago, almost as if she feels sorry for him.

            "You're in love with her, aren't you? Don't try and deny it, Barnes. I _saw_ the way you looked at her when she said I do, when she was dancing with Steve."

            " _You're_ one to speak," he responds indignantly. Natasha recoils, to his surprise, looking ashamed of something.

            "I saw you clinging to Steve, like…like…" He suddenly realizes, as Natasha turns away to stare out the window, that she feels for Steve the same way he feels for Cherise. They had fucked each other out of pity, a need to be comforted after that wedding. He'd otherwise felt absolutely nothing as Natasha ground her hips into him mere moments ago. She sighs, pulling her hair back.

            "You know what, Steve still cares a lot about you. He told me what happened between you two, Natasha," Bucky admits sympathetically. She turns her head, having heard him thoroughly, but she refuses to look at him. A silence passes.

            "Yeah, well I missed my chance. I was too slow," she admits, trying to sound as careless as possible, but Bucky knows this is only her shield.

            "You think I _wanted_ to fall for my best friend's girl?" Bucky asks, "I think I know exactly how you feel."

Natasha turns around to face him with a smile.

            "It looks like we _both_ lost," she says simply, but he can detect the pain behind her grin.

            "And the strange thing is," Bucky begins.

            "It makes me happy to see them happy together," she says, finishing his sentence. Bucky looks her in the eyes a moment before nodding, and for the first time in hours, he finds her eyes glazing over with tears. She only inhales deeply and doesn't allow them to fall.

            "Yeah. I…I just want her to be happy. Even if that means it's not with me. Because Steve means the world to me."

            "I believe that," Natasha says quietly.

            "…This fucking sucks," he says. Natasha laughs, and finally a few tears roll down her cheeks. She turns away from him again to regain composure. When she turns around again, she inches close enough to give Bucky a kiss on the cheek, as if he were simply her brother.

            "You're going now," he says, knowing already she probably wasn't going to spend the night.

            "Do you want me to stay?" Natasha asks unsurely. Bucky's heart is bruised inside his chest.

            "I think I should be alone for a while," he admits.

            "…Me too."

He watches her get dressed again, leaning back against the wall.

            "Well, this was nice. But, I think we both know it was just out of pity."

Bucky nods.

            "Well, I still wouldn’t mind if you just happened to show up again sometime…if you want," he says. Natasha grins.

            "Goodnight, Bucky."

He watches her walk out of his bedroom, listens to her step back into her heels, and close the door behind her.

            "Fuck!" he yells out loud, once he's sure she's left the building. Now there's no way he'll ever be with Cherise. It would have been bad enough to interfere while she was engaged to Steve, but _now_ …


	8. Chapter 8

            By the time Cherise and Steve make it back from their honeymoon, Cherise is sure that Bucky will never be a concern again. She'd noted the way that he talked to Natasha at the wedding, and thought perhaps they might end up together. She hated the idea of going back to work. She'd had so much fun relaxing on beaches all day with Steve, talking until they were too tired to keep their eyes open, doing whatever they wanted all day, every day. As Steve starts home from the airport in the driver's seat, she finds herself gripping his hand, their fingers laced. She doesn't feel they'd ever been closer.

            Steve had managed not to think about Natasha once the plane landed in Hawaii and he carried Cherise through the doors of their room for the time they'd be spending there. The more they had sex, the less he thought about any other woman he's ever met, and things just seemed to be perfect. He had only thought about Natasha with respect to Bucky. He had known they were going to his apartment right after the wedding to get Natasha's gun, and perhaps they'd had a chance to get to know each other better. Steve decides it's better this way. He hopes that maybe someday soon, it will be himself and Cherise as best man and maid of honor for Bucky and Natasha. The fact that neither Steve nor Cherise knows what the other had been worried about seems not to be a problem anymore.

            But when Steve starts having missions almost every week again, Cherise sees less and less of him. It seems that he starts to be so late that she can't stay awake waiting for him all night. She goes to work as well, but she always knows when she'll be coming home at the end of the day. She stops setting him a place at the table, he's gone so frequently. Cherise doesn't call him much while he's on missions. She couldn't get more than his voicemail most of the time, anyway. One evening in the middle of May, while watching TV with dinner alone on the couch, the doorbell rings. Startled, Cherise gets up to go and figure out who's there. She picks up the baseball bat that Steve had taken to leaving in the hallway, the less time he spent at home. The bell rings again and Cherise knows it's not Steve. If it was, he more than likely wouldn't have been ringing the bell. It isn't like him to forget his keys.

            "Come on, boy," someone says on the other side of the door. Cherise pauses, recognizing Bucky's voice, and a flash of lighting causes the windows beside the door to be bright for an instant. It's been raining hard all day long. The bell rings yet another time. Cherise debates leaving the door and pretending that no one is home, but she's almost certain that the next thing Bucky will do is try to reach Steve and report to him that she's not there. She assumes he must have asked Bucky to check in on her. Cherise sighs and approaches close enough to open the door. A gust of wind tumbles in and she finds a decent sized brown lab barking in her face. She jumps, nearly dropping the baseball bat she's still holding onto. Bucky's hair is wet, plastered to his face.

            " _Sit_ ," he says impatiently. The dog obeys him with a whine at last. Cherise stands aside to let Bucky in—she has to, after seeing how soaked he is. She smiles, despite having genuinely been shocked to find that dog barking at her.

            "I'm sorry," Bucky says, pushing some wet strands back off his forehead, "I didn't mean to startle you. I was coming over to see Steve and…" Bucky trails off as the dog begins sniffing Cherise's slippered feet. She laughs and reaches down to pet the lab when it begins to shake its wet self. She turns away and gasps.

            "No, Bob! Stop," Bucky says, but the dog continues to shake its coat to get dry.

            "God, I'm so sorry," he says, shaking his head.

            "It's okay. It’s just a little water. I didn't know you had a dog," she says.

            "Actually, I just got him a couple of days ago. I've been meaning to drop by and have you guys meet him. I haven't seen you since you went to Hawaii."

            "Let me take your jacket," she says kindly. Bucky unzips the jacket. It drips in her hands as she places it on the hook, and he thanks her.

            "Hey, Steve," Bucky calls, starting down the hall.

            "Actually, he's not here," Cherise explains. Bucky's back is to her, and she realizes he's wearing this formfitting black t-shirt that allows her to make out the musculature of his shoulders and torso. She wonders whether he had run to her house in the rain. Bucky turns around.

            "Really? I didn't mean to just barge in here, but I was hoping to catch up with him."

Cherise crosses her arms and shakes her head. Bob wags his tail and starts towards her.

            " _No_ ," Bucky says, "You're gonna get her all wet again—sit."

The lab obeys and Cherise pouts her lips.

            "His name is Bob?" she asks, looking into the dog's eyes. Bucky laughs, what seems like nervously.

            "Yeah, that's what they told me when I picked him up from the shelter," Bucky explains.

            "He's adorable."

            "He needed a home and I thought it would be nice to have a pet around," Bucky explains. Suddenly, Cherise feels sorry for Bucky. Apparently, he hadn't been dating Natasha, or anyone else. Instead, he'd gone and gotten himself a dog.

            "Steve told me I used to love dogs. I thought it would be a nice surprise if he met Bob…do you know when he'll be back?" Bucky takes a step towards Cherise. Her eyes leave the dog and meet his gaze. She shrugs and sighs, and something about her body language tells him that she's not too happy.

            "He's-he's been really busy with missions, or whatever it is he's been up to these days. I think he does a lot of work with the C.I.A., too, some former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents," she explains, and when Bucky examines her smile, he doesn't feel that it's completely genuine. She must have been spending a lot of time alone at night. He glances at the bat she had placed back beside the door. There are no baseballs in sight. Cherise's eyes follow Bucky's gaze. She sighs again.

            "Steve. He just…likes to know that I'm okay when he's not around."

            "He thinks someone's gonna try to break in? It looks to me like you guys live in a pretty safe neighborhood. But I know how he is…he really cares about you, Cherise."

Her heart skips a beat as Bucky gazes back down at her.

            "Well, if you're anything like the way you are at the gym in dangerous situations, I wouldn't be worried about you," he says, his voice having dropped a note, almost as if he didn't really mean to say this out loud. Cherise closes her eyes, wishing Bucky hadn’t reminded her of that evening in the gym, the one where he kissed her after Steve left. Bucky closes his eyes a moment, too, knowing he must have jogged her memory. But when he looks and her eyes are still closed, he feels like a huge idiot. He'd made Cherise uncomfortable yet _again_.

            "I—" they start in unison, and pause as quickly as each realizes that the other was beginning to speak. Bucky closes his mouth. Cherise's remains open, but she can't seem to figure out what to say. She tucks some hair behind her ear, and in the process, Bucky's eye catches the shiny diamond on her finger. He can't do this again.

            "Anyway, I should get going," he says somewhat hastily.

            "Let Steve know I dropped by, would you?" He doesn't pause to look back at Cherise after grabbing his jacket and stepping out the door, Bob trailing alongside him cheerfully. He's sure to securely close the door. Cherise locks it right behind him. She walks back to the den, and when she sits back down to eat, she only stares at the television for a handful of seconds before putting her plate back on the coffee table, pulling her knees to herself, and beginning to cry. Why did Bucky have to _remind_ her of…? She is beginning to feel lonely with Steve gone so frequently, even though she'd just spent so much time alone with him. Some days, she feels like she doesn't even _see_ Steve. He might come back practically at daybreak from a mission, fall into bed beside her as soon as she's due to wake up and go to work, and by the time she gets back, he's gone again. She prays that Bucky won't visit like that out of the blue again, lest her loneliness gets the better of her.

 

            Steve realizes how hard it's going to be to really forget about Natasha when he has to work with her just about every day. She had been unusually quiet around him since he came back after his and Cherise's honeymoon. That day they'd been really busy. Their final mission of the night is just a little museum infiltration that had been picked up via an anonymous tip. All they know is that the suspects are armed, and Steve finds himself distracted while sweeping the east wing of the museum. Natasha hasn't said more than good morning to him today, and he pauses before turning a corner, certain he'd heard movement. He ducks low and waits for whoever is coming. The next thing he knows, he's toppled Natasha, who's lying on her back with shut eyes after gasping. Steve quickly gets up off her. She stays lying where she is with her eyes pinched shut.

            "Damn it, Steve. You were supposed to take the _west_ wing," she exhales. He quickly begins to help her up, and when she shoos his hands away, rubbing the back of her head, he can't stop apologizing.

            "You told _me_ that you were taking the _west_ wing and I would cover the—"

He pushes her out of the way just in time as a masked thief takes a shot. Natasha yells, falling hard on the ground, and Steve quickly realizes he's caught the bullet in his shoulder, below the clavicle. Whoever had shot at him makes a run for it with a sack in their hand, and Steve picks up his shield to start chasing. He doesn't go too far before he decides he's done chasing and throws the shield, nailing the shooter right in the back of the head. He immediately falls to the floor unconscious, and as Natasha is catching up, Steve finally reacts to the bullet, dropping to his knees. It isn't that he hasn't been shot before, but it doesn't change the fact that it _hurts_. He leans against the wall and before he knows it, Natasha is applying pressure to his shoulder, some panic on her face.

            "No—go get that bag and put the artifact back, before he gets up. I'm fine," he explains hastily, speaking through gritted teeth.

            "Steve, you're _bleeding_ a lot—"

            "Right now," he says, realizing how good it feels to have her small hands touching him, despite the fact that she's clutching his wound.

            "Don't boss me around right now! You're gonna _bleed_ to death," she says, pressing the tiny walkie talkie in her suit to contact Sam.

            "Steve's been shot. We caught one of them—we're in the west wing."

            "Natasha," Steve states yet again, pointing over at the sack on the floor. She glances over at it a moment, but doesn't move. She only presses harder on his shoulder and he groans.

            "…Are you angry with me?" he asks. She looks down at the wound distractedly.

            "What?"

            "You're angry because I didn't get the hints, and you were dropping them all over me. This whole time, you've been trying to tell me. And I just thought you were trying to get me to date."

She meets his gaze. He pulls his helmet off, still catching his breath, which causes Natasha's red locks to breeze back with every exhale, she's so close to him. Her expression hardens before it softens and he can tell that she's trying to hold back tears.

            "And you're upset because…now it's too late," he adds. Natasha closes her eyes.

            "Stop talking, Steve," she says, barely above a whisper.

            "Come on. I know it's been on your mind for months now, and we've barely spoken since I got back." Natasha doesn't open her eyes.

            "You _love_ Cherise. I want you to…"

            "What about Bucky? I saw you guys talking at the reception, at the wedding, remember? He's a really nice guy, Natasha…"

She opens her eyes and stares down the corridor before contacting a medic team, ignoring Steve's attempt to get her to talk.

 

            He feels a sense of guilt as he walks up the stairs in the rain. He hopes that Cherise is already fast asleep. He doesn't want to wake her up, knowing she had tried to stay up just to see him. He unlocks the door and places his shield quietly beside it before making his way silently upstairs. He pauses at the landing to the sound of the radio on in the bedroom. The door is open a crack and he can see that the lamp is on. He hopes again that Cherise fell asleep while waiting for him. He unzips the suit and by the time he makes it into their room, he finds that Cherise is lying on her side with open eyes. She sits up straight as Steve makes his way to the hamper to drop his suit. She gasps and he knows she's already spotted his shoulder. The white bandage on it is slightly red where he had continued bleeding. She is out of bed and in front of him by the time he turns around to go to the bathroom.

            "I'm okay," he says gently, gripping her waist a moment and kissing her forehead.

            "Just go back to sleep. I'm going to take a shower."

            "Steve, what's this?" she asks, eying the bandage.

            "Nothing," he says, kissing her forehead again before starting past her. Cherise has seen him with a couple of bruises after a mission, but she'd never seen him bleeding like that before. It alarms her that he would be so calm about it. Sure, he healed very quickly, but she didn't like for him to think he was invincible. He could still die if he got shot enough. She follows him to the bathroom, but he doesn't notice until he turns around to start closing the door. Cherise makes her way in.

            "Steve, what happened?"

He pulls his toothbrush out of the holder.

            "Nothing. I promise I'm fine. Just go get some rest. I'll be there in a minute." He starts to brush his teeth.

            "Have you been shot?" she asks, making her way closer to inspect the bandage. He sighs.

            "Steve—"

            " _Cherise_ , I'm not exactly in the mood to talk right now. Do you have any idea how late it is?" he snaps. She crosses her arms, closing her eyes patiently a moment. She reasons that he must be tired. He doesn't usually have this short of a fuse.

            "…Sometimes, I can't stand the way you act like it's no big deal when you get hurt. It's _terrifying_ …You may be really strong, but you're _not_ invincible, Steve. You almost _died_ last year, do you remember that? Bucky almost _killed_ y—"

            "Well, it looks like he didn't, _did_ he? 'Cause I'm still standing right here," he yells, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth a moment to tell her.

            "I'm _serious_ , Steven," she responds, her voice rising to match his. Her eyes glaze over a bit.

            "You've been _fucking_ shot! I'm sorry if I don't want to wake up next week and realize that I'm a widow! We _just_ got married," she says, her voice breaking slightly, but the anger remaining.

            "Get off my back, Cherise—goddamn! I've been awake for nearly two days straight! Nobody's gonna die anytime soon—that's why I work with a team," he explains in the same tone. She turns on her heels and he hears her walk back into their room. He sighs, catching a glimpse of his angry face in the mirror a moment. He shakes his head and takes a couple of deep breaths before continuing to brush his teeth. And then he sees Cherise walk past the bathroom door with one of the pillows from their bed and a thermal blanket that had been sitting folded at the top of their closet. He hears her stomp down the stairs, crying, and feels like an asshole. The water stings his wound in the shower, and he winces, trying to rotate his shoulder without any discomfort. He knows it will be completely healed in no more than a day or so, but he hadn't realized how much it scares Cherise to see him hurt.

            He had taken that bullet for Natasha. The way that she was standing in front of him, he knows the shot would have been fatal if it had hit her. He _had_ to take it. There hadn't really been a way around it. He can't stop seeing the pain in Natasha's expression when he'd tried to talk to her. He could have asked her for weeks when he started dating Cherise whether she really was the one who had feelings for him. He'd had a feeling that there was a reason Natasha couldn't bring herself to tell him how she really felt. He's thought about this several times, and it always leaves him feeling the same way: guilty, oblivious, even careless. He slams his fist angrily against the shower wall, causing a few tiles to crack. He hadn't meant to upset Cherise, either. Now it seems like everyone's upset with him. He knows he'd only snapped the way he did because Cherise just _had_ to mention Bucky, as if she believed it was Bucky's fault for doing the bad things he'd done, when Steve knows it wasn't.

            Sure, Bucky had almost killed him, but that wasn't really Bucky. That wasn't the kind, protective, trustworthy, and loyal best friend Steve had known all his life. That was The Winter Soldier. It had hurt Steve to hear Cherise carelessly insult Bucky like that. It's as if she would have preferred that Steve had never found him and brought him back to reality, and Steve is reminded of how upset Cherise had been when he told her he wasn't going to give up trying to save his best friend. She'd constantly expressed her worry that it was simply too dangerous, that the Bucky he'd known died long ago, and the man with the metal arm was just the body that had been left behind.

            Steve turns the water off only to realize he's displacing his anger. He shouldn't be angry with Cherise. She'd simply been afraid that he would not come home. He calms down significantly before wrapping a towel around his waist. When he makes it to the bedroom, he realizes that Cherise wasn't just being dramatic. She's not in bed in her usual spot, and she'd taken her pillow with her. Steve sighs, feeling like a poor excuse for a husband as he slips into his pajama pants. He makes his way downstairs to get Cherise. He finds her in the den in the dark, his eyes having adjusted on the way down the stairs.

            "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he says. He can tell that she's not asleep, despite the fact that her eyes are closed.

            "Cherise…I didn't mean to. I'm just under a lot of stress."

She sighs.

            "And that's no excuse," he adds.

            "Steven, go to bed. I'm going to work in the morning," she says. When he goes to pick her up, she opens her eyes and pushes firmly into his chest.

            "Don't touch me," she snaps. He catches a glimpse of the TV clock to find that it's two in the morning. He lets her go. She pulls the blanket she had taken with her further up her shoulder. He kneels in front of the couch and sighs.

            "I said I was sorry," he repeats gently, meaning it. She closes her eyes.

            "Cher."

She doesn't respond.

            "Remember what Father Wright said?" Steve asks. They'd gone to church regularly most Sundays, especially to prepare themselves mentally and emotionally in the weeks leading up to their wedding.

            "Never go to bed angry," Steve finishes.

            "I don't want to talk to you right now," she says as calmly as she can muster.

            "How will you wake up? The alarm clock's in our—"

            "I've got my phone," she responds hastily, keeping her eyes closed.

            "You're going to be cold by yourself down here, and you know it," he says. She hates that this is the truth.

            "I've been sleeping by myself _a lot_ lately, and I haven't frozen to death yet," she says, opening her eyes to deliver the poison and watch its effect. Steve sighs and looks away. He has been gone most nights since they started work again. He decides he's not going to convince her to come back up to bed. She closes her eyes again and he kisses her apologetically on the cheek before making his way out of the den and back to their room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I legitimately started crying while writing this. I don't know what my problem is.

           When Cherise wakes up, she hurries quietly up the stairs to get ready. She goes into the bedroom to find that Steve is fast asleep there, hugging his pillow instead of sleeping on it. She pauses to look at him, regretting making him sleep alone like that after he'd been shot. The bandage on his shoulder is beginning to peel off. She makes her way into the bathroom for bandages and a tube of half-finished Bacitracin. She kneels carefully on the bed and finishes pulling the bandage off of Steve's shoulder, thankful that he tends to be a heavy sleeper. He deserves to sleep all day, if he wants to. She finds there's hardly a trace of the wound. She had probably exploded at him last night for no reason. All she can see is the faint mark where the bullet had pierced him. Regardless, she squeezes a bit of the medicine onto her finger and rubs it in circles on the wounded area. She then fishes a giant Band-Aid out of the assorted box, and sticks it there, throwing away the bandage that had come off.

            In the shower Cherise notices some small cracks on the tile wall and wonders how they'd gotten there. She thinks to tell Steve there might be something wrong with the pipes. She gets dressed hastily, Steve still asleep like a log in bed, not having moved an inch. She makes her way to work, feeling a bit relieved. But what if Steve had gotten shot in the _head_? It doesn't matter how strong he is, if he were to get shot in just the right place, it would be fatal. She finds herself crying by the time she parks at work. She picks up her phone to dial Steve's cell, knowing he would have been too asleep to hear it ring. When she gets his voicemail, she finds herself blubbering incoherently before she pauses, sitting on the hood of her car to calm herself down.

            "Steve, I'm sorry…I know how hard you work…I _do_. But I don't believe that you can blame me for worrying that one day, you won't come home…" she has to pause again to regain composure.

            "I…I still get scared when I see that you're actually hurt. I wasn't trying to accuse you of anything. I just want you to be careful, okay? Because…I love you…" She hangs up before she starts crying uncontrollably.

            "You're okay, Cherise. Steve's okay," she says to herself, taking deep breaths. She goes into her glove compartment to grab tissues and wipes her eyes before making her way into the building for what she knows will be a terrible day due to her lack of sleep. By the time she leaves, she can't help replaying her fight with Steve over and over again in her head. He'd gotten particularly angry when she mentioned that Bucky had almost killed him. _That's_ what had made him tick. She had been so unfair to Bucky, constantly blaming him for Steve's safety. She realizes, as she unlocks her car, that this is exactly what had pissed Steve off.

            She checks her phone to realize that Steve has neither called, nor left her any type of message during the day. She decides that he's probably still angry with her. But _he's_ the one who started yelling when she was just trying to make sure he was okay. In what universe was that fair? She finds herself angry again, but sad at the same time. She drives to Steve's old apartment. Maybe she could get Bucky to explain to Steve that being really strong and unable to age doesn't make anyone invincible. She just wants to drive the point home, so hopefully Steve will even consider a more normal and less life-threatening thing to do with his time.

            She finds that her heart is beating too fast on her way up the stairs, like it had the first time she came to spend the night at Steve's apartment what feels like forever ago. The building still looks pretty much the same, but there has been some changes with the carpeting, and it looked like the walls have been repainted. It looks newer than she remembers. As she makes her way to Steve's old apartment, the anger she'd felt while driving there turns into more of a sadness. She knocks on the door, and it isn't long before she hears someone coming to answer it, the sound of the TV in the background. Bucky opens the door, and she can tell that he's completely surprised to see her. Bob is already barking, and comes rushing up behind Bucky to see who's there.

            "Bob, knock it off," Bucky calls over his shoulder, not taking his electric gaze off of Cherise. The dog quiets down and wags its tail in a friendly manner upon getting closer to her.

            "Hi," Bucky says, his eyes bright, and she can tell that he's happy to see her.

            "What are you doing here?" he asks, stepping aside and sliding Bob back with his foot to keep him from jumping all over Cherise. The dog whines and Cherise grins down at him.

            "Could I…talk to you for a minute?" she asks. Before Bucky can answer, Bob starts howling. Bucky stands aside and gestures to let Cherise inside.

            " _Be quiet,_ boy. His bark is worse than his bite. Trust me. He just likes to pretend he's real tough," Bucky explains. It appears that the soldier is making fast friends with the canine. Bucky cannot believe his eyes as Cherise steps further into his apartment. She looks as beautiful as ever, but when she turns around, he finds her expression contorted in a way that tells him she's about to cry.

            "Cherise?" he says gently. She drops to her knees, dropping her purse and her car keys, crying in a way that immediately concerns Bucky. He rushes over to her on the floor and kneels in front of her, unsure whether he should touch her or just try to comfort her with words. She covers her eyes weeping, and several times, he moves to touch her shoulder and stops before switching to his flesh hand. He places it on her shoulder.

            "Cherise, what's wrong?"

She starts talking, but everything she says comes out a jumbled mess. He finds it difficult to understand her.

            "I'm gonna need you to calm down, okay?" he interrupts gently, rubbing her arm. He finds himself holding her hand with the bionic one, her shoulders trembling as she cries.

            "I can't understand what you're trying to say."

Cherise takes a handful of deep breaths. To Bucky's surprise, he finds that she's squeezing his metal hand rather tightly. She doesn't seem to realize she's holding that one, or maybe it just doesn't bother her anymore.

            "Steve g-got shot—he came home h-hurt last night."

            "Oh my god. Where is he now—is he okay?"

            "Yeah, he's fine," she says hastily, gripping Bucky's metal wrist. His heart skips beats as she finally meets his eyes. She's touching him of her own volition.

            "I w-was w-worried. He didn't—didn't seem to care that it h-happened! He thinks…it's like h-he thinks he's _invincible_. I just…we had a fight," she says, calming down some more, and Bucky stops rubbing her shoulder to let his hand rest there. She sighs twice, her breath sweetly caressing his neck.

            "I just don't want him to die," she admits, her voice breaking again and she starts to cry hysterically. Bucky can't figure out what else to do, and even Bob seems to be concerned. The dog comes closer and begins whining, lying down and staring up at Cherise. Her eyes wander to the brown Labrador a moment, and then she plants her face into Bucky's chest. He wraps his arms around her almost immediately.

            "…Shhh," he breathes, caressing her hair and her back, her arms. He realizes then that he hasn't been this close to her since her wedding day. He wonders whether he's just dreaming when she actually wraps her arms around him. Bucky closes his eyes, not wanting to wake up. But when he feels her hot breath seeping through his shirt, he knows he's fully awake. She's still crying pretty hard. All he wants is to make it stop. He can't hear the television anymore. All he hears is Cherise crying. After about a minute and a half, she quiets down and begins to lift her head. She wipes her eyes, looking a tad bit embarrassed.

            "It's okay," he says carefully.

            "It's okay, Cherise. He's _not_ going to die…yeah, he's too stupid to run away from danger, but trust me, Steve's _always_ been that way, even before he got all strong." He smiles reassuringly.

            "He's stronger than even _me_ these days, and he's an incredible soldier. He'd never die on you, darling…I know how much he loves you."

Cherise's breath catches. Had Bucky just called her _darling_? She smiles toothlessly for a second, closing her eyes, feeling the embarrassment wash over her again.

            "See? Everything's going to be fine," Bucky reassures her, wiping another tear that escapes her eye. She gasps at the warmth of his flesh hand, as if she had not noticed it before. Bucky finds himself passing his hand through her hair, pushing it away from her cheek where it had stuck while she was crying her eyes out. And then he finds himself doing it again, before he realizes that he just can't stop. Everything about her seems soft, seraphic. Cherise isn't moving, she's not looking at him, she can hardy even breathe. She closes her eyes. His hand repeatedly pushing through her hair feels good.

            "I wanted to make sure he was okay. He was just… _yelling_ at me like…I don't know, it was stupid."

Bucky takes a deep breath and doesn't let it go, looking off to the left and then to the right. He knows he'll do something he'll regret if he doesn't let Cherise go right now. He looks down at her again. Her eyes are still closed.

            "If it makes you cry, then it's not stupid. He shouldn't have yelled at you. You were just worried for him. I'll bet _anything_ he regrets it now…How could he stay mad at you?"

Cherise bows her head shyly, and Bucky can tell she smiles a moment. And then she looks up at him again and he melts, the same way he had melted the first time that he saw her. There's something so doe-like about her eyes that makes it impossible to look away. His hands are resting on her waist. He shakes his head almost unnoticeably. _Don't do it, Bucky. Control yourself. She'll never love you, anyway. You're only hurting yourself_. He thinks so hard that his head starts to hurt. Regardless, he pulls his arms around Cherise's middle. She looks so uncomfortable, her hand gravitating towards his chest as if to restrain him. But she doesn't really try to stop him when he presses his lips to hers.

            She gasps into his mouth, and it takes his breath away. The funny thing is that Cherise took his breath away every time he saw her, every time he heard her voice. He finally just goes for it. She might slap him in a second, but he'd endure it if he had to, just to kiss her one last time. That's _all_ he wanted. Then he would stop messing around. He'd call Natasha up and try to fall for her. He'd stop being sinful, coveting his best friend's wife. But to his surprise, Cherise begins to move her lips. Bucky moans, unable to control himself anymore. He's careful to mind his bionic grip, and holds her very loosely with it. Cherise doesn't stop him when he picks her up off the floor and carries her into the bedroom. She doesn't stop him when he kneels on the floor in front of her, pulling off her shoes, her tights, unzipping her skirt. She raises her arms as if they've done this several times before when he goes to remove her blouse.

            She gazes up at him patiently as he pulls his shirt off and slips out of his sweatpants. They never speak as he begins to kiss her all over. Cherise is in the heat of the moment, and she lets go, allows this to happen. Bucky takes his time with her, and she finds herself warming up, as if he'd known her body before. When she finds Bucky on top of her, inside of her, kissing her, it only feels good. She pauses a moment to realize what she's doing. Bucky is so gentle and cautious, the same way that Steve has always been. She digs her nails into his spine desperately and he seems to take the hint automatically, and he starts to fuck her sharply, as if they've fucked before. She seemed entirely comfortable with him, as if she knew him better than she did.

            The sound of Cherise moaning because of him is music to Bucky's ears. He had been worried about his arm malfunctioning if he got this close to anyone, but that night with Natasha had proven to him that it was no longer a problem. He hadn't bothered to start off so gentle with the redhead, as he assumed she was used to everything being rough, and it didn't seem to hurt her when he fucked her the way that he's fucking Cherise. He thought that if women had babies all the time and survived, he couldn’t have inflicted much damage. If anything, he can tell he's only pleasuring Cherise, who knots her fingers into his hair and spreads her legs further to accommodate his muscular waist. He pauses to sit up and pull Cherise into his lap. She slams herself down against him in tune with his hands, which are pulling her waist towards him. Despite all the pleasure he feels, Bucky remains conscious of his bionic grip, and keeps it much looser than the flesh one. Cherise clasps his shoulders and he can tell she's close by the higher pitch her moans have acquired. He grips her hands, and their fingers intertwine naturally, and every part of her seems to fit him like a glove, and the eye contact is almost overwhelming before he's euphoric all over, knowing that Cherise feels it too.

            He collapses back with exhaustion, and feels Cherise's hands resting on his pecks sweatily. He gazes up at her where she's throwing her head back, twitching in her orgasm, which seems to last a good handful of seconds. She finally leans over, spent, catching her breath, hands still resting on Bucky's chest. He can't believe how perfect she is. After a moment, what they've done sets in, and Cherise almost hastily crawls off of Bucky, hands shaking as she reaches for her clothes. She shoves her underwear back on, pulling on her bra and blouse, still catching her breath, leaving the tights off but wadding them into her fist. Bucky closes his eyes and sits up, knowing he's just made a huge mistake. Regardless, it had felt worth it.

            Bucky wonders whether Cherise had ever told Steve that he kissed her months ago. And then he reasons that she must _not_ have, because Steve hasn't attempted to kill him yet. Bucky wonders then whether Cherise had actually wanted to be with him ever since that. She seemed completely ready for him, and she was more compliant than he would have ever dreamed she'd be.

            "I can't believe I just did that," she says to no one in particular, her hand on the doorway and her back to him. Bucky starts. He had thought she'd left, but she'd been hastily getting dressed the entire time. He was too busy thinking. Her voice is rather blank, and he wonders what's going through her head.

            "We…that can't happen again, James…I came here because I wanted to ask you to please talk to Steve, and tell him that he is not invincible…and that I would die without him." Cherise then walks right out without ever looking back. Bucky sits there feeling both satisfied and like a traitor. If Steve ever found out, he would probably try to kill Bucky. Bucky wouldn't have blamed him. He had just intentionally slept with his best friend's wife. He could have stopped at any time. But Cherise didn't seem to _want_ to stop. When he'd knelt in front of her at the foot of his bed, he even seriously contemplated asking her whether she really wanted to go any further. He had known there could be no turning back. And now that he has really tasted her, he knows he won't be able to stop.

 

            Cherise drives herself straight home to her husband. For a few minutes, she doesn't think about what just happened at Steve's old apartment. She knows that if she thinks about what happened, she'll have to pull over because she'll be crying so hard, she won't be able to see the road. But Bucky had been _so_ sweet to her, so loving. She knows for sure now, if she hadn't before, that there's nothing dangerous about him. He never wanted to hurt her _at all_. Cherise realizes she'd been overreacting. Scared for nothing…nothing? No! She knows that she should be afraid for her marriage. She had tried not to think about it, but she does. If Steve _ever_ found out about this, she knows she'd never see him again. He'd divorce her, and he'd probably disown Bucky. She shakes her head frantically, still sitting in the driveway in her car, two minutes after arriving home. She chugs the last cup of the water from a bottle that had been sitting in her car, not swallowing it.

            After telling herself fifteen times that this didn't happen, she gets out of her car, spitting and washing Bucky out of her mouth. She doesn't do this because it had disgusted her to touch him, but because she cannot comfortably walk into hers and Steve's home with another man's spit in her mouth. As she grabs her bag out of the car, she realizes that this hadn't been enough, she needs a bath. She can still feel Bucky inside her, like a brand that had marked her a traitor. When she opens the front door, Steve is sitting on the stairs waiting for her, his cell phone in his hands. He looks up at her apologetically. She pauses before closing the door. As she checks her phone in her purse a moment, she finds that she'd missed Steve's calls. She shudders to think that he was calling while she was having sex with Bucky. The guilt overwhelms her, and she finds it impossible to look into Steve's eyes as he stands slowly.

            "I'm so sorry," he says, and she knows that he means every word. She hangs her purse on the rack, along with her jacket, fighting the guilty tears that are welling up in her eyes. She pauses and feels Steve getting closer to her.

            "Baby, I'm really sorry," he says again. She turns around and throws herself into his waiting arms.

            "I was an asshole," Steve admits, rubbing her back, "And you were only worried about me." She holds him tightly and the tears just start coming. Steve kisses her forehead repeatedly, and she's thankful that Bucky had not kissed her there as well.

            "I was unnecessarily mean, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you," Steve confesses. She wonders whether he'd sat home all day to figure out the best way to apologize to her.

            "I…" she begins, unable to finish her sentence. Part of her is dying to tell Steve what she'd just done. She doesn't deserve his love after what she'd done. He only caresses her hair as she searches his face to find that it's full of love, unable to tell him she cheated on him mere moments ago. He kisses her. It doesn't feel right all of a sudden. It isn't that she doesn't love Steve, but she finds herself wishing that they were Bucky's lips kissing her. And she just can't think or move at all as the Captain carries her upstairs. A vase of roses is sitting on the dresser, and Cherise knows that he'd gone out to get them for her as an apology. He stands Cherise up and she walks over to them to admire them.

            "Oh, Steve," she says, unable to say anything more. Tears are still rolling down her cheeks. Before she can turn around, he's behind her, pinned to her back. In the mirror in front of her, she watches Steve begin to kiss her neck. His arms wrap warmly and strongly around her waist. She decides this is comforting, and by the time Steve has sat her in bed and removed her clothes, she feels the guilt again. He starts off the same way that Bucky had, kissing all over her body. She prays that Steve won't detect the fact that she'd already been touched moments ago. She hopes she doesn't smell like somebody else. To her relief, Steve doesn't seem to notice a change, even when he enters her with ease and moans. She throws her head back and winces only slightly, silently. He starts off gently, to her relief, but once he's convinced she's just as turned on as he is, he becomes more aggressive, like she'd taught him to on the floor in front of the front door months ago.

            Cherise isn't sure she can take this much longer. Steve doesn't appear to be able to distinguish between her moaning out of pleasure and moaning out of discomfort; they sounded almost exactly the same. Bucky had finished her thoroughly enough. After having sex with him, she decides this is too uncomfortable and groans painfully beneath the weight of Steve's perfect body. Still, he doesn't pause as she lifts her head off the pillow slightly. She pushes up on his chest, shaking her head, wincing now so that he can see.

            "What's wrong, Reese?" he asks, getting off of her, catching his breath. She only continues to shake her head, unable to look him in the eyes. She turns away from Steve and stares out the window, pulling her knees to her chest. She doesn't want to face Steve, or Bucky, or anyone. She feels disgusted with herself. She could have stopped Bucky at any moment. She knows he would have stopped if she'd have said something. _She should have said something_.

            "Cherise?" Steve asks gently. She feels the bed shift inwards where he sits closer behind her, and his arms pull around her lovingly. She closes her eyes tightly, thinking how much she doesn't deserve his concern.

            "Are you okay?" he asks, pressing his lips to the back of her head. He'd thought he was doing things right, like they had done countless times on their honeymoon. Cherise had never looked so uncomfortable, and the Captain floods with concern. She doesn't answer him, which only makes him worry more.

            "Can you please talk to me...? Say something…anything," Steve begs, massaging her sides. Cherise can't move in her guilt. As soon as she'd stood up to walk to the front steps of their home, she could feel Bucky seeping out of her, and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

            "You're starting to scare me," Steve says, and he turns her so that her face is to him. She doesn't want to open her eyes. She just shakes her head. She feels his lips on her forehead.

            "I promise I won't leave you," he says, and then she wonders whether she had spat the truth to him.

            "I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'm fine now. The wound finished healing. I don't usually get shot like that. It shouldn't happen again—it was just a...a stroke of bad luck." He kisses her forehead lingeringly again and she opens her wet eyes to look at his shoulder. She peels the bandage that she'd put on him that morning to find that there's no trace of the injury. She runs her hand over it repeatedly and cries herself to sleep in Steve's arms.

 

            She calls in sick to work to stay in bed with Steve. They brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom, like they often do on weekends, but Cherise still can't bring herself to speak. When she crawls back into bed after showering, Steve follows suit. She thinks he's not convinced that she feels any better about him getting shot, and while this is only part of the reason, he makes an honest attempt to get her to talk. He dabs her eyes with a tissue from the box at their bedside.

            "If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy…Nothing else would matter in the world today. We could go on loving in the same old way," Steve sings in his softest tenor. The first time she heard him sing this, Steve had told her that his father used to sing it to his mother all the time. This only makes Cherise cry harder, despite her beginning to smile and laugh at the same time. It isn't the first time Steve has sung to her, whether to cheer her up, or just because he felt like it. He'd sung Let's Fall in Love for her at their wedding, in front of everyone. She could never get over the surprises Steve seems to be full of. Despite what she's beginning to feel for Bucky, she can honestly say that she loves Steve. The only problem now is that she's keeping secrets from him. Little does she know, Steve has a few of his own.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My keyboard is deteriorating and keeps not wanting to put Ys in Bucky's name. Fuckass.

            On Sunday morning, she stands in Church, Steve's hand heavy and secure atop hers where she rests it on the pew, mumbling the Lord's Prayer along with everybody else. It's too hard to be in love with two people at the same time, she decides, and she prays in the back of her mind that God will forgive her. Steve laces his fingers through hers and holds it tighter, his lips moving in time with everyone else around them. But she doesn't hear a thing. She just hears her conscience telling her what a whore she is, and that she should be stoned to death. Steve is _beyond_ good to her, and she had repaid him by sleeping with his very best friend in the entire world? How could she?

            Steve's thumb twists her wedding band absently as he keeps his eyes closed. She had even paused in praying to look up at him, wondering what he's thinking. She had never been much of a churchgoer before she met Steve, not that her parents never took her as a child. Steve took her to the church he goes to regularly shortly after their first date, and the magnitude of his faith just captivated her in some way. Even after seeing all of the things that he's seen and being through all of the things he's been through, Steve believes in God. She had found it a breath of fresh air that he wasn't exactly old school about it, at the very least. He still kept a solid head on his shoulders, his politics separate. She knows she would not have been able to date him otherwise.

            On their way out for the day, she doesn't even see him before Steve calls out to Bucky. And her heart pierces in her chest for a moment as Steve stops walking, and she finally looks up from the ground and clutching the Captain's arm to find the blue-eyed soldier turning around, the spring sun catching him in a way that only seems to intensify his beauty. He'd been leaning against a stone archway of the church, and his silvery arm is hidden beneath the sleeve of a brown cargo jacket.

            "Bucky…I've never seen you here before. I didn’t know you came to this church," Steve explains, clearly glad to see his best friend. Bucky looks Cherise over once before focusing on Steve. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and shrugs.

            "I don't. I mean, this is the second time I've been here. I never saw you the first time," he explains, those electric eyes rolling around to look at the building a moment, the street. Deep down, he had come to wash away his sins. He had felt horribly the day after sleeping with Cherise. Bucky had thought to try and redeem himself in some way. The last thing he expected was to run into Steve and the only woman he can't have. He'd been sitting in the back during, and swore he caught a glimpse of Cherise's hair. When he realized who she was standing next to, he could no longer hear the priest's sermon. Instead, he'd spent the entire time wishing he could be the one beside her, the one who's shoulder she rested her head on, whose chest she slept on at night. And then he'd felt a strange mix of envy, anger, and sadness, perfectly packaged up all in one.

            "I can't remember the last time I ever saw _you_ in a church," Steve admits, grinning. Bucky laughs lightly and smooths his hair back out of his face. Cherise steals a glimpse of the chestnut waves that frame his strong jaw, before tearing her eyes away again.

            "Well, to be honest," he begins. Cherise is practically hiding in Steve's arm; her nose is pressed against it, and she's still clutching his bicep, "I was thinking of paying you a visit after this. I had something to tell you."

            "You did?" Steve asks. Cherise focuses again to find Bucky looking between both herself and Steve evenly, but his gaze on her causes her skin to heat up, and she wonders how the hell God doesn't simply strike her dead where she stands.

            "You're _not_ invincible," Bucky states seriously, leaning forward to emphasize his words. Cherise's heart races. Steve glances down at her, and she knows that he knows she'd told Bucky about their fight.

            "Now, don't get mad at Cherise. She's right to believe it, after she saw that you took a bullet the other night. She was crying so much, I thought I'd have to come over and kick your ass." Normally, she would have laughed when Bucky says this kind of thing, but she knows he's being completely honest. Steve looks directly into Bucky's eyes, and knows that what he's saying is the truth.

            "She worries about you, Steve, like any…incredible wife would do. _I_ worry about you," Bucky adds. Steve wraps his arm around Cherise.

            "I'm sorry," he says, kissing the top of her head. She closes her eyes, leaning into him. Little does Bucky know, Steve has already apologized to her, several times since their fight.

            "I just hope that you know…if anything ever _did_ happen to you, I'd take care of Cherise."

She looks away again, pretending to be watching the streetlights to see when it might be safe to cross. Hearing Bucky say this only seems to awaken the same sort of feelings for him that she has for Steve. Steve releases her arm to hug Bucky. She gazes up at the two of them, finding Bucky's eyes closed for only a moment, before he looks down at her. Despite the fact that many things about him remind her of Steve, she has noticed that Bucky's eyes are a bit more galvanizing, excited in some way, as if she can't tell what he'll do next. Steve's are just as beautiful, but cooler, like the sky. Perhaps this is what had drawn her to Bucky. She looks away from him, but he doesn't stop looking at her. She crosses her arms and turns further. She listens to the two of them talk distractedly, stepping from foot to foot in an attempt not to listen.

            "Reese and I are heading home. Do you want to come over for lunch?" Steve asks, and her heart jumps as she hopes that Bucky will say no. She finds it too awkward to be around him at this point, especially in front of the Captain.

            "Mmm, I'd love to, but I'm actually doing a Sunday shift at work, starting in about an hour," Bucky explains. He and Steve pat each other on the shoulder before Bucky turns and starts off. Steve reaches for Cherise's waist, and when he finds that she's crying again, is immediately concerned. He assumes she's still thinking about what would happen if he were to die, so he only kisses her cheek and pulls her close as they walk to the car. She's thinking about what Bucky had said. _Why does he care about her like that?_ He barely knows her as much as Steve does. She tries to reason that maybe she is the first lay Bucky has had in decades, and he's simply overreacting to it. It's only when she's sitting in the passenger's side and Steve is buckling her in that she finally pays attention to him.

            "Honey, it's all going to be okay…I won't go in to work this week—I'll take the week off." His hands heavy on her knees make her aware of reality and pull her from her thoughts. She sighs.

            "No, Steve. You don't have to do that…I know that Sam is going to need your help, if anything comes up. What about Natasha?"

            Steve wishes suddenly that Cherise hadn't mentioned the redhead. He stares into space a moment at the thought of her. She had been avoiding talking to him since the wedding, and especially since he'd brought up how she feels about him on their most recent mission. Cherise pushes her hand through Steve's hair and kisses his forehead. Likewise, Cherise's touch brings him out of his head.

            "You're right. It's not like you get shot all the time," she says quietly, continuing to caress his hair, resting her hand at the back of his neck. He looks into her eyes and still gets weak in the knees. He remembers the way he had felt like this when he met Natasha's gaze, and it all starts coming back to him.

 

 

            Two weeks pass and Natasha continues to act as if she barely knows Steve. He can't help going over and over again in his head how things might have turned out if she'd been honest with him about her feelings earlier on. The Captain is conflicted, because he loves Cherise at the same time. He couldn't just abandon her. And he can't avoid Natasha, either, because they work together. He thinks back to Christmas, about the way that Sam had joked that Bucky was trying to steal Cherise, and the thought makes him genuinely angry. He trusts Bucky with his **life**. Despite knowing that Sam had only been joking, he doesn't believe that Bucky would ever betray him that way. When he makes it home to see Cherise in the kitchen, cooking, he takes the wooden spoon out of her hand and places it on the counter. She grins unsurely, before he simply picks her up for a kiss.

            Bucky comes over regularly to spend time with Steve, and Cherise always makes sure that she has an "errand" to run, or spends her time in the garden, finding herself buying more flowers than she'd intended to plant that spring. Bucky can't seem to figure out how to get alone with her. His feelings are unresolved, and the least he wants is to be able to _talk_ to her, yet she avoids him like he's the plague. Cherise is careful to make sure that Steve is present whenever she's around Bucky. The soldier gets used to spending more time walking his dog when he's not at work, and discovers that the lab enjoys it when Bucky rubs his tummy with the bionic hand. It seems to scratch Bob behind the ears just right.

            When Bucky invites Stark to come over and maintain his arm again, he gets to talking about the gym where he works, the veterans, and as he watches Tony buzz away with gears and pieces in his arm, he finds himself thinking about Cherise again. He had tried to distract himself by telling Tony about his job.

            "Well, the amputees must envy you," Tony adds, not lifting his eyes from Bucky's open arm. Bucky sighs.

            "You ever…want some broad you just can't have?" he asks. Tony pauses and lifts his goggles to ponder the thought.

            "Sure, why?"

Bucky stares into space.

            "Oh no…oh _god_ ," Tony says with exaggeration, "Isn't Rogers your homeboy?" he asks. Bucky snaps out of it to stare at Tony.

            "How'd you know?"

            "Okay, first things first. No! Bad Bucky," he says, smacking him atop the head with a thin screwdriver, "Steve's your best friend. Get that woman out of your head. You're starting down a dangerous road, my friend. You do not want to mess with a married woman—especially not your BFF's." Bucky eyes the ring on Tony's finger; he'd recently married Pepper. It appears to Bucky that everyone around him is getting together, but he's stuck in his best friend's old apartment with a dog.

            "But she—"

            " _No_ ," Tony says again, brandishing the screwdriver. Bucky closes his eyes tightly a moment, waiting for the blow, but it never comes.

            "…All those amputees you were talking about," Tony continues, flipping his goggles back on and going back to work, "How about we make them _not_ so jealous of you anymore?"

            "What?" Bucky asks, at a loss.

            "I'm gonna take your mind off your friend's wife, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Tony explains. Bucky finds himself hoping that it works. Bob stares up at him from the kitchen floor and yawns.

 

 

            The next time Steve sees Natasha, he stops lying to himself. After the simple mission for the day is complete, she still hasn't spoken to him, so he pulls her aside, down a corridor, out of earshot and view.

            "Steve…?"

He thinks hard about what he wants to say. But he can't say it, he has to show it. There's a small gasp out of the woman when hugs her.

            "…Steve, are you feeling alright?" she asks, patting his back unsurely. After several awkward seconds, the Captain finds that his heart is beating way too hard, the way that it often does when he holds his wife this way. Natasha plants her small hands on his chest and pulls her head back to observe Steve's expression. Her flaming eyebrows are clenched together in concern.

            "Rogers?"

He presses his lips to hers without wasting another moment in thought, and sees the fireworks he had seen when she kissed him that one time a long time ago, while they were in disguise and making their escape from HYDRA agents at the mall. Natasha is quick to jerk her head back and pull her arm out of his grip—despite desperately not wanting to—staring up at him as if he's lost his mind.

            "You are _married_ ," she breathes angrily, " _Married_ , Steve. It's _too late_ ," she whispers fiercely, and these angry tears suddenly spill out of her eyes.

            "How can you do this to her?" Natasha says much louder, "If it were me, and we were married, I would wonder the same thing."

            "I just had to see if…" Steve trails off, getting lost in her saddened eyes, despite the anger on Natasha's face.

            "See if _what?_ "

            "If I still have feelings for you," he finishes.

            "…And?"

            "…I know that I shouldn't," he admits.

            She wipes her eyes and when she starts past him, he only allows her to travel about a foot before pulling her back again. She gasps but doesn't struggle against his body. Since seeing her at the wedding, he has been suppressing her. After not being able to reach her for so long, he figured she had moved on, and wasn't really planning on coming back, because he had rejected her. Before he knows it, he's kissing Natasha like he should have been kissing his wife. When he pulls back a moment, he regrets it, not just because he has betrayed Cherise, but because he had hurt Natasha for far too long.

            "Why the hell did you keep pushing me away, pretending you wanted me to be with somebody else?" he asks. Natasha has yet to open her eyes. She smiles sadly without teeth, finally catching her breath.

            "Because I knew I had a past…that _you_ couldn't deal with. And I have lied to you _so much_ already. How could you possibly have wanted anymore of that?"

            "It's not the lies that I wanted, Natasha."

            "…Go home and tell Cherise that you love her. It's too late for us," she breathes, walking away, and this time he allows her to go. He has no idea how long Natasha has been waiting for this, but her conscience is telling her to resist. It tears her up inside to walk away from Steve. The problem is that she had been right to fall for him, and wrong to pretend that she hadn't. The Captain wonders how it's possible to be in love with two people at the same time. He ends the day unable to stop thinking about that kiss. He finds himself coming home relatively early for the first time in a long time. As he parks his Harley in the driveway, he realizes that Cherise is already waiting on the porch for him, crickets chirping, the aroma of all the flowers she's been planting for some reason, and the sky a nice palette of orange, pink, and purple. He freezes, wondering whether somehow she already knows what he'd done that day. He feels like a traitor on his way towards her. As he approaches closer, he can see that she doesn't look happy.

            "Cher?"

He walks slowly up the steps. She's holding the landline phone, looking like she's afraid to tell him something. He drops his shield on the porch and grips her waist.

            "Cherise?" Her eyes start dripping. Steve clutches her head in both hands.

            "Reese, what's wrong?"

            "…Peggy Carter passed away today," she says, just above a whisper. For a moment, the earth seems to be ripped out from under the Captain's feet. He registers the words that have just come out of his wife's mouth.

            "…I'm _so_ sorry, baby," she says, wrapping her arms around him. He'd lost yet _another_ in so little time. He's frozen on the spot. Cherise holds him tightly, rubbing his back. Steve wonders then whether this is his punishment for cheating.

 

            Peggy's funeral doesn't feel real to Steve. He and Cherise had visited her when they came back from their honeymoon, and they had both expected her to not remember who they were (as is, of course, what had happened). But that had been the usual. The Captain had thought she had at least another month or two left. He'd thought wrong. Cherise is still holding his hand tightly when the ceremony is over. Peggy's children thank Steve for coming, and he finds himself unable to stop staring at her daughter, who despite being in her sixties, is the spitting image of Peggy herself. It gives him chills as he watches her walk away. For a moment, he thinks to call out to her, and to call her Peggy, but that's not even her name.

            "Steve…" and that's all that Bucky says. He can see how messed up Steve is over this. The Captain only wishes he had visited Peggy _one_ more time. He pauses to think how he can even do all of this to any of these women, love them all at the same time. It doesn't make any sense. He has barely spoken since the ceremony started. His tongue seems to have been buried along with Peggy. At her daughter's house, the reception is quiet, lugubrious, and lachrymose. Cherise places a small glass of wine into Steve's hand, but he doesn't even drink it. All he does is glance down at Cherise momentarily. He continues to lean against the wall, and this side of him is finally beginning to scare her.

            "Do you want to go home?" she asks, standing on her tip toes to whisper into his ear, rubbing his hand comfortingly.

            "No," he says, and she's surprised that he actually responds,"Just a while longer," he says, glancing around at the guests.

            "Okay." She rubs his shoulder before kissing him on the cheek a moment. He closes his eyes while she does this, and Cherise watches a solitary tear dangle upon the wheat gold lashes of his right eye. She'd thought he already cried himself dry the day that she told him a little over a week ago and during the funeral half an hour earlier. Evidently not.

            "I'm going to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." She holds his hand until she's too far away for it to be possible as she makes it towards the stairs. She catches sight of Bucky stepping towards the Captain. His eyes follow her all the way to the top of the stairs, which she notices when she steals another glance from the summit. She hates that Bucky has the nerve to look at her like that while Steve is around, as upset as he is, not that Steve has stopped staring off into space to notice. She walks into a random bedroom and sits down to cry. She doesn’t like seeing her husband like this. It feels as if she cannot get through to him, like he's not even there. But Cherise also knows that he had lost someone very special to him. She sits alone crying for a couple of minutes before the door opens.

            "Oh—I'm so sorry. I was just looking for the bathroom. I'll—"

But when she gets up to find Bucky in the doorway, she shuts up.

            "You okay?" he asks, genuinely. She only wipes her eyes, picks up her bag, nods. When she tries to make it past Bucky, he blocks her.

            "Cherise—"

            " _Move_ ," she says firmly, closing her eyes.

She hears the door close. She looks up at Bucky with disbelief. His metal fingers click the lock.

            "…Are you out of your mind?" she asks.

            "I _just_ want to talk to you," he explains, taking a step closer to her and raising his hands, almost as if to surrender in some way. She backs up, so he keeps approaching, and her eyes water all the more, and not just for Peggy or for Steve.

            " _Stop_ ," she says. Bucky stands where he is.

            "…I think that we both know there's something going on between us," he says.

            "James," she says patiently, closing her eyes, "Please get out of my way."

            "You could have gone to _anyone_ , to any of your girlfriends after your fight with Steve, but you _didn't_ … _you_ came to _me,_ Cherise. And I think you know exactly why—"

            "Because you're his _best friend_ ," she says impatiently, trying to keep her voice down.

            "And I wanted you to tell him to be careful, so he'd _listen_ …" she starts to cry again.

            "He doesn't listen to you?" Bucky asks, his voice very caring and sweet, and she doesn't want for it to be. She feels his hands on her shoulders and starts trying to pull away.

            "Reese," he says gently, bowing his head in an attempt to meet her eyes. She shivers a moment. This name is not for Bucky to use.

            "Don't. I can't do this. I _told_ you this can't happen again," she says hastily.

            "You could have told me to stop. You could have left. You didn't. You kissed me back."

            "You're right—I shouldn't have gone to you while I was upset…I was just vulnerable, and you were just—" she can't finish her sentence. She pulls out from under Bucky's hands and crosses her arms.

            "I don't think you felt vulnerable…You're implying that I took advantage of you in some way, and you know that is not what happened. We _both_ did—"

            "Stop it," she begs, looking at him again. Bucky's eyes are gorgeous, even when reddened from being upset.

            "—Something wrong," he finishes. At least he _knows_ that it wasn't supposed to happen.

            "Whether you believe me or not, I _don't_ want to destroy your marriage…but I think I'm in love with y—"

            "You don’t know what you're talking about…I can't do this right now…" she shoves past him at last.

            "Cherise—wait."

She doesn't _have_ to wait, stop, listen, but she does.

            "You think that I _wanted_ this to happen? You have no idea how hard it is for me, because believe it or not, I care about Steve, too. I _care_ about how he feels. I would have preferred it if you happened to be _anybody_ else's girl— _anybody's_ —not Steve's…But that's my luck, I guess. You just had to be Steve's."

She's crying quietly. Bucky's flesh arm encircles her waist where she stands with her hand on the doorknob.

            "I've wanted you from the moment I met y—"

            " _No_ ," she practically wails, "No you didn't—"

            "I _did_ —"

            "No you didn't."

            "And it's not because you're Steve's. It's not just because I think…that you're beautiful. It's _you_. It's always been you. The way that you care so much, _so hard_ , the way that you would do anything for him. It's your capacity to love."

            "Stop," she breathes, but he has already pulled her into both arms now. He's so warm, even his metal arm. She doesn't remember it being that warm. She feels his breath against her skin like a monsoon. It's a pleasant storm to be swept up in. Bucky blows the strands of stray hair away from the nape of her neck, and she visibly shivers. He rests his face in her bun. She allows him to hold her for a number of seconds, before pulling forward and away. She turns around to face him.

            "I need you to stay away from me—"

            "Well, I'm sorry. That's just not going to happen," Bucky interrupts, a feeling of utter frustration gripping him.

            "…You'd better watch it, James Barnes," Cherise snaps, but her eyes are still watering. Part of her just hopes that if she's mean enough, Bucky will forget all of this, stop acting crazy.

            "Steve _needs_ me. It doesn't matter that I might… _feel_ anything towards you—my _husband_ needs me," she says, but he continues to watch the tears spilling out of her eyes as she speaks.

            "Then why'd you let me touch you?" he asks, feeling a bit stung, but he knows that Cherise is only upset because Steve is upset. He also knows that she knows he's referring to a few seconds ago, just as much as he's referring to when she came crying to him about Steve.

            "It's not going to happen again," she promises before ducking out of the room. Bucky knows this to be a lie. He doesn't see her lasting with Steve very long, not after what the Captain had told him about kissing someone else earlier in their relationship. And now that he knows it was in fact Natasha, there's no way Steve can really avoid the woman. Eventually, things will have to blow over, won't they? It doesn't matter what Steve thinks is right; he clearly has feelings for Romanoff.

            When Cherise makes it down the stairs, she turns to see whether Bucky will try to come after her, and somebody grabs her. She gasps before recognizing Steve's watch on the hand at her waist. She calms down immediately, and when she turns around, Steve looks a bit surprised to see that she's crying afresh.

            "I want to go home," she says, "Now."

The Captain doesn't question her.

 

            He doesn't speak on the drive home, but she grasps his hand where it rests on his knee in the passenger's seat, the June rain pelting the windshield. She's glad that it had at least started _after_ Peggy's funeral.

            "She's the first woman I ever kissed," he says, and his voice seems to come out of nowhere as Cherise stands at the front door, opening it. This is the first time Steve has ever told her that. She knows that Peggy was the first woman Steve had ever fallen for, but he has never revealed this to her until now. When they make it inside, he just stands there, staring off into what Cherise knows is his memory. She removes his jacket and unties his tie. He just stands there, even as she kneels and begins to untie his loafers. And then he looks down at her and pushes a hand through her hair. She pauses there, looking up at him. He starts towards the stairs and disappears. She has to wait there a moment to compose herself, hating that Bucky just had to bring shit all up at such a delicate time.

            When Cherise makes it upstairs, Steve is lying in bed in his boxers, staring out the window at the rain. She hangs his jacket and tie neatly on his side of the closet. She takes off her dress and makeup before washing her face and joining him. She wraps her arm around him and kisses his cheek. His eyes are still open, and he won't speak. She finds herself wishing that he would as she lies there, rubbing his back. It's several minutes before Steve says anything.

            "Cher…I'd like to be alone for a little while," he says gently. She sits up and looks down upon him a moment before kissing his shoulder and getting out of bed. She throws on some comfortable pajamas and makes her way down to watch television. It actually hurts her that Steve would send her away while he's clearly suffering. She figures he doesn't want her to see him cry anymore. Maybe he even feels guilty. He'd had the same feelings for Peggy that he has for her. Cherise makes herself comfortable in a blanket on the couch. It's thundering outside, yet she manages to go to sleep.

            When Steve finally gets up, he walks around the house until he finds Cherise asleep in the den. He looks down at her a while. She looks beautiful with her hair fanned out and leaning over the edge of the couch, clutching the blanket around her shoulders. He had gone from thinking about Peggy to thinking about Natasha. Though he feels guilty for it, he can't stop. He makes his way back upstairs and gets dressed before heading out in the rain. He drives the car to Natasha's place, somewhere he has only been twice. The first time he'd been there was to help Natasha move in some things. The second time was after she'd been injured on a mission and needed to take some time off. That second visit happened when his relationship with Cherise was official. He stands on Natasha's doorstep for a full minute before ringing the bell.

            When she pulls the door open, she only sees that it's the Captain before trying to close the door in his face. She has no idea what he's been through. He hadn't told anyone, aside from Bucky, about Peggy's funeral. Steve holds the door open, and Natasha only tries to close it harder. Finally, she gives up. She takes a better look at him.

            "Steve?"

He steps inside.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration for this chapter: The Water - Feist and Honey Honey - Feist…and Sleep Underground - Circa Survive. I couldn't decide. But a friend had told me that an OST by Ennio Morricone, "Quilty" from Lolita is a perfect soundtrack to this story. I dunno, certain songs often remind me of something I'm trying to write, which is why I mention them…

 

           Steve gets lost in Natasha's embrace. She's sitting on her couch, her arms around his shoulders. He doesn't speak, he only mourns. She hasn't seen him cry before. It makes her feel jumpy, in ways she can't describe. His tears make her want to cry, too. She doesn't want him to feel the way that he's feeling. And she knows that he should be at home in his wife's arms. But it doesn't stop her from planting kisses on his forehead. He begins to grow heavy on her after a while, having stopped crying audibly, until she's resting back on the couch and the Captain is asleep between her knees. His full head of hair is so soft. She finds it hard to believe he's almost a century old, despite knowing the fact that his condition allows him to stay so young in appearance.

            Natasha wonders, out of sheer curiosity, whether he and Cherise had ever discussed their long term plans for their marriage; Cherise would be the only one aging. Wouldn't that have been painful for Steve? He's just been through losing Peggy. She wonders how painful that must have to be, knowing you're going to stay young forever, but have to watch all of the normal loved ones around you age and die. She hasn't really considered this before, but as she gazes down at Steve, she realizes that he's immortal. If he never dies on a mission or in some kind of fight, he'd live forever. And then she feels sad for herself. If Steve had chosen her, this would still be the case. She holds him a bit tighter for a moment, the muted TV glaring against the white walls behind the couch. She finds herself thankful that Steve has Bucky, at the very least. They're in the same situation. Natasha decides she won't wake the Captain up. She'll let him stay as long as he needs to.

 

            Cherise wakes up on the couch the morning after Peggy's funeral. The TV is still on. She'd fallen asleep shortly after coming down. When she makes it up to hers and Steve's bedroom, she finds that he's not there. She thinks that he must have gone out for a run, to do something to distract himself from the pain of losing Peggy. Cherise had respected the fact that Steve needed space at times. He was rarely that upset in front of her. She finds herself wondering, as she showers, whether Steve knows that she doesn't think it makes him weak to cry. She hopes that he's not afraid to do it in front of her when it's all that he has left to do over something. She could _never_ see the Captain as weak, even if all his muscles were to simply atrophy.

            She makes herself busy for the day by tidying up the house, doing some of Steve's laundry, and even going to the supermarket to get some steaks. She wants to do whatever she can to comfort Steve, even if it's something as simple as a hot plate of his favourite food. By eight o'clock, he hasn't returned, and she begins to find herself wondering where he is. She knows that he's upset, but he'd usually call to let her know around when he would be getting home, make sure she knows that he's okay. She thinks to call him herself by ten-thirty. But as she paces in the kitchen, having wrapped up the food for later, she never reaches him. She calls twice, only to get his voicemail. The third time Cherise calls doesn't end up being the charm, either. She begins to feel frustrated, panicky, even. For a moment, she thinks about the night that he'd come home shot, and rushes out the front door to realize that he'd actually taken his car, the Harley is still parked, and she'd driven her own car to the store and back earlier that day.

            Walking over to his bike, she calls Steve yet again. She grips the handle anxiously, and when he doesn't pick up, she really starts to worry. But if he'd been hurt, Sam or Natasha, or somebody else that he works with, would have called her right away. But it's a _Saturday_. Breathing rather unevenly, she begins to sort through her contacts. Steve had given her Bucky's number shortly after she met him, but she never thought she'd ever actually call him. Her thumb quivers as she hesitates a moment after pressing the letter B on her type pad. Bucky is the only contact listed under that letter in her phone. She hits the green phone icon and waits. It only rings twice before Bucky picks up.

            "Hello?" Cherise has never called him before, and he hadn't recognized the number.

            "…" She doesn't even know what to say. His voice makes her heart jump, and she forgets for a few seconds why she was calling Bucky in the first place.

            "Hello?" he says again.

            "I can't find Steve," she blurts, a lot louder and more panicked than she'd intended to.

            "Cherise?" Bucky is surprised to hear her, and his voice automatically floods with concern, a tone that Cherise had not expected to hear after she had tried to be so mean to him the previous day. She begins to cry, dropping to her knees on the damp pavement in the driveway, the security lights from the side of hers and Steve's home shining on her like a stage. She begins to break down, and can barely hear Bucky telling her to calm down. It's just like before, when she came to him about Steve. She'd cried so hard that Bucky couldn't understand her. She can't see him, but he's already stuffing his feet into some shoes and grabbing his keys as he exits Steve's old apartment. He makes it halfway down the stairs before Cherise finally calms down enough so that he can talk to her.

            "Don't move—I'm coming right over, okay?" There it is again. That sweetness that had drawn her in, made her feel calm.

            "I'll be right over. Just wait for me, and stay calm…okay, Cherise?" Bucky pulls his car door shut.

            "…Okay."

She sounded so weak that it concerned him. And as he drives over the speed limit, he finds himself _praying_ that Steve hasn't done something stupid. He _was_ extremely upset that Peggy was gone. Bucky hadn't seen Steve cry quite like that since attending his mother's funeral. Bucky puts the pedal to the metal.

 

            Cherise is sitting on the ground in the driveway as Bucky pulls up on the sidewalk. It's about eleven at night and she's just sitting in the driveway, staring into space like some kind of lost dog, and it genuinely terrifies him to see her like that. Her cell phone is on the ground beside her. She doesn't move, and it's almost like she's just a statue as he rushes out of the car. He pauses on the sidewalk and looks at her. She doesn't get up, she just sits there. Bucky runs over to her and drops to his knees, clutching Cherise's shoulders. At that point, she inhales deeply, as if she'd been dead while waiting for Bucky to get there. Her cheeks are still wet with tears.

            "He hasn't called at all?" Bucky asks. He already asked her this when he was leaving the apartment. Cherise shakes her head for no and begins to cry frantically again. She doesn't calm down until Bucky has pulled her into his arms. She breathes anxiously.

            "…Tell me again what happened," he says patiently, rubbing her hair, she keeps her cheek rested against his shoulder.

            "We came home, yesterday, after the funeral. It was…maybe four fifteen in the afternoon. He was still really upset. I could tell. He went straight to bed, I came up to comfort him, and then he told me he wanted to be alone." Bucky finds himself fearing the worst, the more Cherise tells him.

            "And I went downstairs to relax. I fell asleep. I woke up, and Steve was gone. I thought he went for a run, like he usually does. But it got to be noon and he wasn't back. I went to the store to get food for dinner. And by the time I finished cooking around five, he still hadn’t come home or called, or _anything_." Bucky can hear her worry and frustration.

            "I called him at _least_ ten times…he's gone," she says, her voice breaking again, and she cries.

            "Shhh, shhh," he says. Cherise peels her head back. She looks Bucky in the eyes then.

            "Did you _tell_ him?" she asks.

            "Tell him what?" Bucky wonders. He's genuinely too concerned for Steve to realize what she's trying to tell him.

            "You told him. So he left me," she says, her face twisting into a strange sort of anger and pain suddenly, "He doesn't love me anymore," she breathes, fresh tears leaking out of her eyes. Bucky clutches her cheek as she begins trying to pull away from him.

            "No—I didn't. What happened between us _stayed_ between us, Cherise—I swear. If you think that Steve left you because of me, then you're the one who told him what we did. I sure as hell couldn’t," Bucky admits, feeling ashamed and defensive.

            " _I_ didn't," she retorts, pushing him back. She wipes her eyes.

            "But I bet he knows. He _knows_ , so he _left_ me," she says angrily, pushing Bucky back. His eyes widen and he looks at Cherise with disbelief. He grabs her wrists impatiently.

            "Calm _down_. I didn't tell him anything! You have _no idea_ how much it's killing me. Don't try to pin this on _me_ , you slept with me because you _wanted_ to—just as much as I did. I'm not the only one to blame." He's angry just as quickly as Cherise had gotten angry. She shoves Bucky again and covers her eyes to weep. She sounds so wounded that Bucky immediately regrets his words. He reaches for her with shaky hands before grabbing her shoulders. She doesn't try to move him away again.

            "Cherise…I'm _sorry_ ," he says desperately, choking for a moment. He holds back his own tears, "I…I didn't mean that…come here." Bucky stands up and brings her to her feet with him.

            "Let's just…try to think about where he might have gone and look for him. He's probably just fine." Cherise wipes her eyes a final time.

            "Let me get my keys," she says quietly, disappearing into the house. Bucky stands there with his hands in his pockets, sniffling back tears. He can hear the crickets chirping, and the grass is wet under his feet as he paces across it to his car. Cherise hurries back out of the house and rushes to Bucky's car to meet him. He pulls the door open to let her in before she sits in the passenger's side. He closes the door and takes his seat, starting the engine.

            "Have you checked his favourite bar?" Bucky asks, starting down the street. Cherise turns to look at him.

            "He has a favourite bar?"

Bucky begins to wonder whether Cherise is really as close to Steve as she thinks she is. He looks at her a moment and nods, knowing that she belongs with him instead. It kills him every time.

 

            Steve is lost in Natasha's kisses, her small hands on his chest. He lies on her couch, enamored with the tickle of her flaming hair upon his face as she leans down atop him. He can't explain to himself why he isn't with Cherise right now. He knows he should be. But Natasha's just making him feel better, and he doesn't want it to end. He figures he hasn't done the worst just yet; the two of them are still fully clothed. It makes him feel a hint less guilty when it remains this way the entire time that he's there. He manages to fall asleep again beneath the weight of her petite body. It amuses him in some way to think how fragile Natasha appears, and then to see the strength in her arms and legs when she takes out teams of men at a time, all on her own. She could have easily taken Steve down too, if she really wanted to, but he knows he had already surrendered to her the moment that he walked through her door.

            He hasn't thought too heavily of Peggy or of Cherise since getting here. All he knows is that Natasha is making his pain go away, not that Cherise couldn't have done so for him as well. But he's not nearly as familiar with Natasha's caresses, her relaxed breaths against his chest where she rests her head. Her head is resting in Cherise's spot. Before drifting off to sleep again, Steve thinks about how angry, how betrayed, how broken Cherise would feel to see Natasha in her spot.

 

            "Sam, we need your help. Have you seen Steve?" Bucky asks. It's almost one in the morning, and he's surprised that Sam is still awake, and sounding rather alert at the same time. Cherise had begun to cry again as she sits in the passenger's seat after she and Bucky had dropped by a local VFW, only to find it closed.

            "We?" Sam responds. Cherise glances over through her tears. Bucky has Sam on speaker phone.

            "He left the house at some point after Peggy's funeral on Friday, and I haven't seen him since," she says clearly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Bucky searches the glove compartment for a small box of tissues and hands them to her. She takes them and begins to open them right away.

            "She called me when she couldn't reach him by phone," Bucky explains. He just wants Cherise to stop crying. It tears him apart inside. And by now, he is just as worried about Steve as she is. Cherise eyes Bucky's flesh hand a moment and swears she can see it shaking in the glow of his cell phone's light. This makes her uneasy, because if even _Bucky_ is worried, then Steve must really be in trouble.

            "Where are you guys now?"

            "We just checked a VFW somewhere downtown, but it's closed. Didn't think it would be open this late, but I figured it was worth a try," he explains, glancing at Cherise again. She's staring at him. He can't exactly read her expression, but it puts him at no more ease.

            "What about the gym—"

            "Checked there, the one I work at and a couple of others."

            "She call him?"

            "Dozens of times. He never answered, didn't text either."

            "Okay. I'm coming. Where do you guys want to meet?" Sam asks. Cherise and Bucky can both hear him opening and closing his front door on the other line.

            "How about my place?" Bucky asks, "Maybe he even went there. We can start there and work something out—maybe even check out the new headquarters where he's been working." He keeps a sure voice, if only to make Cherise feel a little bit better. Bucky knows that he's also doing it to contain his own fear.

            "Got it. Give me ten," Sam finishes. Bucky hangs up the phone and drops it in his pocket. As he starts off again, he finds Cherise staring out the window, hugging herself as if she's cold. Bucky reaches for the heat and turns it on.

            "You cold?" he asks delicately. She whips her head around to look at him, and he can tell she had been lost in thought. She only nods quietly as a response before noting that he'd turned the heat on. Though it's close to summer, it still gets chilly at night.

            "We'll find him, Reese…don't worry."

Cherise's heart jumps again. Bucky shouldn't call her that. It gives her these feelings that she knows she shouldn't feel for anyone other than her husband. It makes her feel badly to have these feelings for Bucky because of Steve, and it also makes her feel badly to _suppress_ her feelings for Bucky. Part of her wants to unleash them so badly, but as she eyes the rings on her finger, the wedding band and the engagement gem, she is quickly able to keep quiet.

 

            "Okay. Don't panic," Sam starts. Cherise drops to her knees when the receptionist tells Bucky yet again that Captain Rogers hasn't come in since Wednesday. Bucky continues to argue with her, and asks whether there's someone else he can talk to that might know where Steve is, because his wife is worried that something bad has happened to him.

            "Come on, Cherise. There's got to be a reasonable explanation. He wouldn't just leave you," Sam continues, rubbing her back, having stooped to the floor to be at her level. Meanwhile, Bucky is simply escalating, explaining that he's worried for his friend, that he hasn't seen Steve so upset in over sixty years. Cherise had only felt happy that the place had been open at five in the morning. It functioned like a hospital or police station, never closing, and as she glances around at some of the agents walking past the scene with rubber necks, she realizes how committed Steve has always been to a cause. This place is his baby, something he'd built from the ground up after the whole incident with S.H.I.E.L.D.. And as Cherise recognizes some of the faces from the crowd at her wedding, she can see the confused sympathy as they walk past. The receptionist finally yields and offers to show Bucky to Steve's office, anything to get him to calm down. But Steve isn't there. Cherise doesn't find herself surprised. She calls Steve yet again on their way out, Sam and Bucky at her sides, the two of them trying to comfort her.

            "Steve!" She yells hopelessly into his voicemail, stopping in the parking lot, "Where _are you_? Where _are you_?" She cries.

            "Did you reach him?" Bucky asks hopefully, turning to face her at the same time as Sam. Cherise only babbles into the phone.

            "Where _are you_? Why won't you answer the phone? _Where are you?_ _What did I do?_ " She begs. It hurts Bucky to see Cherise think that it's her fault Steve is missing. He refuses to believe that the Captain abandoned her.

            "I'm gonna go back to the house. Maybe he's there now," Sam says calmly.

            "You go ahead. We'll catch up with you," Bucky responds. Sam starts away kind of slowly, wishing he could do something else to calm Cherise down. It's scary to see her this upset. He's _never_ seen her upset, and so far as he knows, she and Steve never had any problems. They seemed like the perfect couple. Why would Steve just leave her? Sam pauses at his car, and wonders then whether he ever should have joked to Steve that Bucky was trying to steal Cherise. He watches the soldier trying to get her to calm down, and when Bucky kisses her on the cheek, pulling the phone out of her hand and pocketing it, he wonders whether they are any of his business.

 

            At six in the morning, Cherise rushes out of Bucky's Cadillac before he comes to a complete stop in front of her house.

            "Hey!" he calls, unable to believe his eyes a moment as the door hangs open. She could have gotten seriously hurt. She doesn't stop, only runs across the lawn, pulling her keys out of her pocket. Sam had already pulled up in the driveway and is walking from the backyard. He pauses to see Cherise running up the front steps, tripping a moment. She gets right back up and rushes into the house. Bucky sighs and parks. His hands are shaking for lack of sleep and worry for Steve. He pushes his hand through his hair and gets out. He closes both doors to his car before hurrying towards the house after Cherise.

            "I looked in the shed out back," Sam explains as Bucky makes his way in, "He wasn't there, either."

As soon as Bucky walks through the door, he can hear Cherise screaming for Steve. If the man was home, there's no way he wouldn't have heard her. Bucky pauses at the base of the steps and it finally dawns on him who he should have been calling from the get-go. Natasha Romanoff's phone rings four times before she finally picks it up. She sounds tired, and when she realizes that it's Bucky calling, irritated. She complains and asks him why the hell he's calling so early in the morning.

            "Listen, this is an emergency. Have you seen Steve anywhere? He came home with Cherise from Peggy Carter's funeral on Friday, and she hasn't seen him since he left at some point after that," he explains, his heart racing. There's pure silence on the other line, and Bucky doesn't have to see Natasha's face to realize that Steve is probably lying right beside her.

            "…What? Is he okay? I haven't seen him," she says, clear as a bell. She doesn't sound nearly as worried as she should, if Steve is _actually_ missing.

            "I've been running around since ten-thirty last night trying to find him with Cherise—even got Sam to help us. We haven’t seen a _trace_ of him anywhere."

            "Wait. Are you _sure_? Has she tried calling him?" Natasha asks, sounding more awake, but _still_ , not nearly as worried as Bucky knows she should sound. Bucky's blood boils. What kind of fucking question was that? Why the hell would Cherise have called two of Steve's best friends to try and find him if she had been able to reach him herself on the phone? For a moment, Bucky pictures his metallic fingers around Natasha's little neck. She had some nerve. He pauses to the sound of Cherise knocking something over upstairs, running around. She calls out for Steve again, her voice having gone hoarse from crying.

            "Barnes," Natasha says, trying to get his attention after he'd gone silent.

            "… врун," he says as clearly as possible, with disgusted emphasis, knowing that she understands exactly what he's saying, letting her know that he's onto her. Bucky ends the call before she has the chance to respond again. Cherise is making her way down the stairs in time to see Bucky pocketing his phone.

            "Give me my phone," she says, nearly tripping into him desperately.

            "Cherise, I think you need to sit down for a minute," Bucky says. He can't keep this secret from her anymore. It will mean betraying Steve, yet again, but Natasha is the reason that Steve had completely forgotten about his own wife. The _one_ person in the world who he should worship and care for enough that he wouldn't let her go more than twenty-four hours without knowing where he is.

            "Fuck that! Give me my phone," Cherise yells, and Bucky's heart jumps. He hadn't heard her swear before. She's clearly tired and scared, and he just stands there as she shoves her hands into his pockets and retrieves her phone. He sighs and leans against the wall as Cherise hurries back up the stairs, dialing Steve's number again. He decides to follow her this time, and when he follows her to the bedroom, she sits down and closes her eyes, her lips uttering prayers that Steve will finally answer the phone. Bucky detects a ringtone nearby before Cherise does. He walks around the bed and pauses. Cherise picks up on it, too. She pulls the covers back, looking for Steve's cell phone. Bucky spots it on the floor by an outlet, plugged in, charging. He picks it up to show it to Cherise, who is already looking his way to see where the ringing had come from. She gets Steve's voicemail again and ends the call. How could he have forgotten to bring his phone with him, wherever he went? Maybe she'd been panicking for no reason. She realizes that before she called Bucky, she'd been calling Steve from downstairs. She simply hadn't heard Steve's phone ringing because she wasn’t close enough.

            " _That_ explains why he wasn't answering," Bucky says with a minute measure of relief.

            "But it doesn't tell me where the hell he is," Cherise says glumly. But she does feel a little bit less worried. Cherise walks around the bed and retrieves the Captain's cell phone from Bucky. She finds that it's full of her missed calls and voicemails. She sighs and sits back down. Bucky takes his jacket off and drops it on the dresser.

            "Cherise, he's going to be fine. I know him…and I think he just wanted to be alone," he says comfortingly. He sits beside her on the bed as she closes her eyes.

            "But I _did_ leave him alone, after he asked to be by himself…I just don't understand how he could leave like that…I'm sorry," she whispers.

            "For what? You had every right to be upset." Bucky can't resist placing his hand atop hers. She leans her head on his shoulder, to his surprise. She can hardly keep her eyes open, and neither can Bucky. He stops thinking about her in ways that he shouldn't at that moment; he's sitting atop hers and Steve's very bed. In this moment, he only feels relief for her. Cherise takes a deep breath. She wonders why Bucky's metal arm feels so warm beneath her cheek. She had barely noticed that she was resting on this one until he clutched her hand tighter with metal fingers. Cherise stays this way beside Bucky for several minutes. When she opens her eyes, she has to ask out of complete curiosity.

            "Has it always been this warm?"

            "Huh?" Bucky responds just as quietly.

            "Your…" she lifts her head to glance at his shiny shoulder.

            "Tony made some adjustments to it recently. One was to make it more…bio aware, I guess. Now it reaches core temperature when I'm cold…or when I'm in contact with some other warm body, without causing any glitches," he explains in a way that sounds monotonous, but Cherise knows he's only tired. He closes his eyes. It takes him by surprise when he feels Cherise's cheek again on his metal shoulder. He looks down at her, and fights the urge to kiss her. The sun is rising, and it streams in through the curtains like magic on the two of them. He's saved only by the sound of Steve pulling up in the driveway. Cherise's cheek leaves his shoulder as she jumps up to pull the curtains back further. He knows that Steve has come home when Cherise rushes around the bed and out of the room. He follows suit, but much slower.

            Bucky can already hear her yelling at Steve by the time he makes it to the front door. Sam is stood outside a couple of feet away from them with his arms crossed, watching as Cherise travels down the front steps to meet the Captain where he had stopped walking. He glances past her at Bucky on the porch, who merely waves once without a smile, his tired eyes dark around the rims.

            "Where the _hell_ were you?" she asks with rage, but her voice is choked by tears. Steve appears immediately apologetic. He clutches her waist in an attempt to soothe, but Cherise keeps asking him. He doesn't look tired like the rest of them, who have been out all night searching for him. Cherise is clearly not in a good mood.

            "Let's just go inside, okay? Before we wake up the neighbors," Steve reasons.

            "No—tell me where the _hell_ you were!" she demands, and Bucky doesn't have to see her face to know that she's crying. She pushes Steve when he tries to turn her bodily to get her in the house. Bucky descends the steps, getting closer as Sam backs up farther. He waves to Bucky, and Bucky thanks him for helping out. Sam doesn't waste another minute before getting into his car and driving away.

            "Calm down," Steve says a bit impatiently. Cherise stops yelling at him just to cry. He tries to turn her around again and she shoves him.

            "Why did you _leave_?! I thought you—" Cherise can't finish her sentence. Steve attempts again to get her to turn around and she just plain slaps him. Bucky can feel the rage emanating off of her as he stands right behind her. Steve's head had barely turned at her blow, and Bucky was close enough to see that she hadn't hit him very hard to begin with. Steve had simply driven her crazy for making her wonder where he was all that time. And as Bucky stands there, he realizes that Steve still hasn't told her where he had been. She turns on her heels, bumping square into Bucky. She hadn't meant to, but he still wraps his arms around her comfortingly. Steve watches her sink into Bucky's chest and sighs.

            "Reese, I'm sorry. I forgot my phone in the house…I went out for a drive and lost track of time," the Captain explains. Bucky reads Steve's face, and finds that there's something untruthful about it. He doesn't like this, despite knowing he'd already lied to Steve himself. Steve looks away from Bucky, and he realizes that the two of them are both aware that he had just lied to his wife. Cherise pulls back from Bucky and thanks him before disappearing into the house. She had even slammed the door shut, not waiting for Steve to come inside.

            "Where _were_ you, man?" Bucky asks. Steve pushes his hands through his hair and over his face, sighing. Bucky knows that Steve only wants to hide his face a little longer, until he can keep it poker.

            "I never thought I'd say this to you, Steve," Bucky begins, taking a step closer and closing the gap between them, "And I'm only going to say it once, because the last time I saw her cry like that was when she was afraid for your life…you _better_ not break her heart." Bucky starts to his car.

            "I'm glad you're okay," he adds. Steve stands there feeling stuck. Shame washes over him. He can't tell Bucky a lie, even without verbalizing it. He has an odd feeling that Bucky knows where he'd been the whole time. He has an odd feeling that maybe he doesn't deserve Cherise. And maybe Bucky does instead.


	12. Chapter 12

            "Cherise," Steve calls upon opening the front door with his key. He stands there after closing it and listens to the sound of the bathtub running in the bathroom down the hall. Neither Steve nor Cherise tended to use that one as frequently. The shower was always faster, and closer to their bedroom upstairs. He walks down the hall to knock on the door. When he twists the handle, he finds it locked.

            "Reese?" he asks, knocking rather loudly.

            "Leave me alone," she calls from inside, sounding rather irritated. Steve sighs and makes his way to the kitchen. He had barely eaten while at Natasha's. In his sorrow, he had barely gotten up from her couch. The Captain finds the leftovers from what Cherise had made the previous night, and the shame creeps further into his heart. She'd gone out of her way to get his favourite steaks, and he'd just been lying around with Natasha all day. He pictures Cherise bustling about the kitchen, waiting for him to come home, and presses his face tiredly against the refrigerator door. He knows she's angry with him. He knows he should not have been with Natasha. He had genuinely forgotten his cell phone. When he'd gotten up a few hours after walking straight to bed on Friday, he really didn’t expect to end up staying at Natasha's for an entire day. His phone had been the last thing on his mind.

            He thinks about what Cherise had tried to say outside a few moments prior. Had she really thought he went off to kill himself? He shivers at the thought, and throws some of the food on a plate before putting it in the microwave. He makes his way upstairs, knowing that it will probably be a while before Cherise is calm enough to talk to him. He takes off his clothes for a shower, picking up his phone, which had somehow gotten from the floor where he left it charging, to the dresser top in front of the mirror. He unlocks the screen with a swipe of his thumb to find that Cherise had called and texted him about twenty times, and there are notifications up the wazoo. He stands there to start listening to one of the voicemail messages.

            "Where _are you_? Why won't you answer the phone? _Where are you? What did I do?_ "

His heart breaks as he listens to this. And as Cherise cries on, he hears another voice, almost muted, as if it's not as close to the phone as Cherise's voice had been.

            "Don't cry…" Steve can make out Bucky's voice. He stands up a little straighter, listening more carefully.

            "Come on, doll…" He can still hear Cherise sniffling, and swears he hears the sound of a pair of lips smacking before the message ends. Steve places the phone down carefully before looking in the mirror at himself. His expression has become full of wrath, and he doesn't want to think why. He's _sure_ that Bucky had only been trying to comfort Cherise. Why wouldn't he? He had clearly heard the way that she was crying, asking Steve where he was. But the Captain loses control a moment, long enough to shatter the beveled mirror with his fist. He tries to calm down, but as he listens to the voicemail again and again, it makes him angrier. He throws the phone in bed and pulls a towel from the closet to trudge off to the shower.

            When he makes his way back, Cherise is sitting atop the bed, looking on where the mirror used to be, her hair damp and dripping onto her t-shirt. She sits with her legs crossed in her underwear, and doesn't turn to look at Steve as he pauses in the doorway. His stomach growls.

            "You left your food in the microwave," she says blankly. Steve sighs. He walks over to the bed and sits beside her. She doesn't move. He makes his way closer and kisses her on the cheek. She speaks at last.

            "Where _were_ you, Steve?" she asks, turning to look at him. Her eyes are always pretty, red as they are from crying so much and being up all night searching for him. His heart breaks when he thinks about Natasha.

            "I…I just needed to be alone a while," he explains, pulling an arm around Cherise. She leans back, meaning to keep his gaze. He feels as if she doesn't believe him, and she shouldn't.

            "I was _really_ scared," she admits, "It's not like you to just take off like that, forget your phone, not tell me you're going somewhere…" Steve presses his forehead against her shoulder and kisses it.

            "I'm sorry."

            "…Did I do something wrong?" she asks, her voice breaking. Steve looks down at her and pulls her into both arms.

            " _No_. Of _course_ not. Why would you think that, honey?"

She looks away from him, her eyes darting back and forth as if looking for something to say.

            "Why'd you shatter the mirror?" she asks, looking over at the shards that litter the dresser top and the floor. Steve had hoped she would still be down in the tub when he got out of the shower so that he'd have a chance to clean it up.

            "I was…just upset. I didn't mean to. I'll replace it," he promises. They are both lying to each other at this point. After hugging him tightly, Cherise stands up and out of his arms to go into the closet. Steve sits there and thinks about what he's doing. He's cheating on his wife. He hadn't had sex with Natasha, but he might as well have. He can still feel her lips on his cheeks.

            "Is that Bucky's jacket?" Steve asks, finally noticing the item that had been left on the dresser. It's sprinkled with the glass from the mirror the Captain had punched in. Cherise steps out of the closet with a pair of pants.

            "What?"

Steve stands and walks over to pick it up.

            "Isn't this Bucky's?"

            "Yeah—he came up here when we were looking for you, after we drove around all night. We thought maybe you came back, and I called you again. That's when he found your phone sitting on the floor over there," she explains. For a moment, as he picks up the light cargo jacket, he doesn't believe her…but why on earth would Bucky have been stupid enough to leave it there if he _had_ been messing around with Cherise?

            "You did the right thing by calling him. I'm so sorry that I made you guys worry," Steve admits. Cherise sighs and leans in the doorway of the closet.

            "I'll bring this back to him tomorrow."

 

 

            Tony Stark had told Bucky he would take his mind off of Cherise. Bucky doesn't find it _entirely_ effective, except to say that he's starting to make _a lot_ more money, and helping out veterans in ways that he would never have imagined he could. In a week's time, he finds himself the CEO of a new company Stark helps him to create for prosthetics and their mechanical advancement. His old job agrees to become a partner to the company, and before he knows it, he's making enough to start paying Steve back for all his help in getting him the apartment, therapy, everything he needed to get back into the new world. It isn't until the fourth of July that he finds himself over at Cherise and Steve's for a cookout. Tony joins him to gab about the new company, and when Natasha shows up, the smile slowly leaves Bucky's face. He hadn't had a chance to confront her since that night that Cherise had panicked looking for Steve, but he knows for certain that Steve had been with Natasha. He still hasn't brought it up with Steve, not wanting to hurt his friendship any worse, keeping his feelings for Cherise quiet. He's been so busy with Stark that he hasn't had much of a chance to think so much about Cherise.

            Natasha looks Bucky right in the eyes and says hello, as if she _isn't_ a home wrecking whore. And as Cherise makes her way towards the redhead, he pauses to think that he's just as guilty. The women hug like best friends, and Bucky finds himself biting his tongue, hating the look on Steve's face as he glances over at Natasha from the grill. He knows they have been messing around, but how much, he cannot say. Cherise leads Natasha towards the cooler to get her something to drink, and Bob rushes out of the house after Sam and Kate (who have recently started dating), barking like he's rabid. For a moment, Bucky hopes his dog will run up and bite Natasha's hand, but as Sam grasps the lab's collar, Bob only continues by wagging his tail and acting shy when Natasha stoops to pet him.

            He wants so badly to tell Cherise that Steve is cheating on her. He'd given her time to deal with Steve, knowing that as soon as he left that Sunday morning after helping her look for him all night, that the couple had had a lot to talk about. But he gets the feeling that Steve has yet to come clean. He'd thought about telling Steve about himself and Cherise the day after, when he came by to drop off the jacket he left at their house. He just _couldn't_ , not after seeing the look in Steve's eyes while he talked about how upset with him Cherise had been. Bucky sighs, shoving his metal hand into his pocket. It's hot today, and he's thankful that the air conditioner works in Cherise and Steve's house. After getting a drink for Natasha, Cherise empties some ice water from the cooler into a big bowl she had put out for Bob. Bucky grins, making his way over.

            He's only bedded Cherise once, and finds himself wondering how many nights Steve visits Natasha while Cherise waits up for him. It just isn't fair. He realizes that none of them must really be happy, if this is continuing to go on. Stark is busy trying to tell Steve how to grill when Bucky makes it to Cherise. Natasha is already starting over to Steve, who finally hands Tony the spatula to pause and hug the redhead. Cherise looks at Bucky shyly a moment, pulling at the hem of her sundress in the back. Bucky's eyes dart up and down.

            "You look amazing," he says casually.

She looks away, crossing her arms, her gaze reaching Natasha and Steve talking. It lingers there.

            "Thanks for giving Bob something to drink," he says before taking a sip of his beer. Cherise nods, still looking over at Steve and Natasha.

            "Yeah. I figured he might get thirsty in this weather," she says distractedly. Bucky sighs. She looks at him now.

            "Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks quietly, "In the house?"

            "Bucky—"

            "I'm not going to try and kiss you. I just need to tell you something. Something that I think you have the right to know," he says. Cherise's heart rate quickens. She nods after thinking for a few seconds.

            "Help me get the rest of the wine out of the kitchen," she says, holding the screen door open. Bucky follows her and they are enveloped by a pleasant coolness. They enter the kitchen where Cherise grabs another bag of potato chips and a big bowl.

            "There's some sherry in the cabinet closest to the window. Can you grab it?"

Bucky opens the cabinet for the bottle of wine. Cherise pauses with the chips and turns around to face him, leaning against the counter.

            "What did you want to tell me?"

Bucky places the wine on the table and makes his way closer to Cherise. She takes a deep breath.

            "Don't," she says calmly, "Don't come any closer than that." He stops about three feet away from her. Bucky realizes that Cherise doesn't trust herself around him. If she hadn't said something, he would have gotten closer, put his hand on her hip, and she wouldn't have been able to control herself.

            "Remember a few weeks ago, at Peggy's funeral, when you said that you might feel something towards me—"

            "Bucky," she breathes, closing her eyes, "You promised we weren't coming in here to talk about that."

            "I didn't promise you anything," he says calmly. Cherise knows this had been the case.

            "Okay, that's fine," he adds, crossing his arms. She looks up at him apologetically, in time to see him shrug, knowing he doesn't really mean this. He cares, and he wants to talk about this, but he doesn't push her.

            "Steve is…" he closes his eyes tightly a moment.

            "What about Steve?" Cherise asks immediately, and Bucky hears her take a step towards him.

            "Bucky, _tell me_ ," she demands. He looks down at her, suddenly wishing he hadn't said a word.

            "I'm just concerned that Steve might be…"

            "Might be what?" she asks, her voice becoming a bit panicky.

            "Don't think that I'm telling you this to try and win you over, okay? But I think he might be cheating on you."

Cherise's brows cock halfway off her face and she looks at Bucky like he's crazy.

            "I knew you wouldn't believe me," he says, turning around and heading back to the table for the wine. He's surprised when he feels Cherise grip his arm. He looks back at her.

            "Wait. Tell me why you think that…I feel like…ever since that night that I couldn't find him, he's been acting sort of different. I don't know…like…he's been calling me more during the day, asking me how my day went, where I went. And I mean _every day_. It's like he's suspicious of _me_ or something."

Bucky swallows hard, wondering whether Steve had ever even thought it was possible that he had been craving Cherise. He turns around to look at her.

            "I don't know why he would think that…we stopped," she says, and her voice gets really quiet towards the end of her sentence. Bucky's nostrils flare and his eyes water. It's not fair. Steve doesn't even see her anymore, not with those eyes he had for Natasha outside. Bucky stares at Cherise's hand gripping his metallic wrist.

            "Look, I just _know_ that something is going on. He lied to you about where he was that day that you couldn't find him. He never told me where he went, but I know that he wasn't just driving around. I know he didn't just lose track of time," Bucky admits. Cherise had felt this to be odd as well. Steve isn't the kind of person to lose track of time. He would have at least told her where he was going, or when he planned on coming back.

            "I realized…that it _doesn't matter_ how much I want you…neither of us want to hurt him," Bucky says, reaching for the wine again and beginning to pull his wrist out of Cherise's hand. To his surprise, she squeezes, not letting go. He turns around to look down on her with wide eyes.

            "Do you really believe that he's messing around?" she whispers, and her lip quivers, and he knows she's still in denial, that she knows it.

            "I wouldn't tell you if I didn't think it was the truth. It's weird being around him when I know, because I _know_ him. He's not telling me, but I know," Bucky promises, "I swear, Cherise. I'm not saying this to make you hate him. That's really not what I want."

She covers her mouth, looks away, out the window, still gripping Bucky's wrist. He looks down at her hand still holding him so tightly.

            "Cherise?"

She finally looks at him again. And then she rushes up to him and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. For a moment, he keeps his eyes open and just stands there. Cherise pulls her arms around him. He lets this go on for a while before prying her back.

            "Don't do this just because you're upset with him. That's not why I want you to return my feelings," he says a bit more angrily than he'd intended.

            "It's not. I just needed a reason to believe I wasn't wrong," she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

            "But you're a good man, James. I know that you never wanted to hurt Steve, so I guess that’s it." She goes for the bag of chips and the bowl she'd left on the counter, but then Bucky grabs her by the waist and swings her back into his arms. She feels her feet lift off the floor as he pulls her up against his chest, their lips connected. He stumbles back against the counter with his arms full of her. She sits there, wrapping her arms about his neck. They kiss feverishly, like it's the last time they'll ever be able to. Bucky pulls her head back a moment and stares in her eyes.

            "I _do_ have feelings for you…I do," she admits. The kissing continues, and Cherise shoves her hand into Bucky's shorts. He groans into her mouth, pushing his hand up her thigh under her dress, and the sound of the front door causes her to pull her hand back as if she'd been touching fire. Bucky walks swiftly back to the table for the sherry and Cherise hastily straightens her dress and hair before picking up the chips from the counter.

            "Reese?" Steve calls from the hallway. Bucky shakes his head, taking a deep breath. That had been _way_ too close.

            "We're out of wine."

Steve appears in the kitchen doorway and she smiles at him, carrying the chips.

            "I know. Bucky's got it."

Steve smiles over at Bucky before kissing Cherise on the forehead and taking the bag of chips and bowl from her.

            "Just throw it in the cooler, Buck," he says, thanking him on his way out. Cherise follows right after Steve, like some kind of obedient dog. The fact that Bucky knows he's messing around with Natasha makes his stomach churn.

 

            After the guests leave, Cherise and Steve busy themselves putting away the lawn chairs and cleaning up the house. Steve seems a bit impatient as he carries things back to the basement.

            "You should take some of the leftovers to work," he says on his way back up from the basement.

            "I thought you'd want them," she says, "You don't like my cooking anymore?" she jokes. Steve laughs a moment.

            "I've actually got to do something over at headquarters. I forgot about it, since we spent Friday preparing for the party," he explains as she washes the barbeque sauce off of a platter in the kitchen.

            "Steve, it's Saturday…when have you ever gone to work on a Saturday? Can't it wait until Monday?" She thinks about what Bucky had told her earlier, and suddenly she doesn't believe what Steve is telling her. He sighs.

            "It really can't, honey. I'm sorry. I don't know when I'll be back."

            "Steve," she calls dropping the platter, rushing out of the kitchen and following him to the front door. He grabs his keys off the small hook on the hallway wall.

            "Steve," she says again as he pulls the front door open.

            "What?" he asks, and the way he responds is just not as kind as it normally would have been. He seems in a hurry. She crosses her arms.

            "You've been out till at least eight-thirty every night this week. What's so important that you have to go in on a _Saturday_ to do it? Can't you call someone up?" she asks.

            "I'm the _only_ one authorized. It can't wait," he explains, halfway through the door.

            "Don't wait up for me, okay?"

He doesn't wait for another response before walking out the front door. Cherise watches him get on his bike and ride away. Something just seems off. He had responded to her so hastily, almost as if he was making it up as he went along. It's a holiday. How could anyone be at work on a legal holiday? She keeps thinking about what Bucky had said, and wonders who Steve could possibly be seeing, if he is actually cheating on her. There are probably a couple of women that he works with, but she can't recall seeing too many at hers and Steve's wedding. As she stands at the sink drying dishes, Cherise thinks about Natasha. She must know Steve pretty well…She's known him longer than Cherise has known him…They work together…Cherise doesn't recall the redhead bringing a date to their fourth of July cookout, nor to the wedding. It gets her thinking. After a good hour passes, she picks up the phone to call Steve.

            He doesn't answer, so she calls him again. This time, he picks it up after the second ring.

            "What?" he asks on the other line, sounding as if he's unhappy to be interrupted, whatever he's doing.

            "Is something going on that I should know about, Steve?" she asks cautiously.

            "…Reese, what are you talking about? What do you mean?"

She sighs.

            "Steve…if something was going on…if you weren't happy, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?" She stares out the window.

            "I'm at my office right now. Can we talk when I get home?"

            "Okay. When are you getting home?" she asks.

            "I don't know—Reese, I really can't talk right—"

            "Where did you _really_ go that day, Steve?" she asks, unable to keep quiet about it any longer.

            "You never told me."

            "Are you serious right now?"

            "Steve, did you lie to me?"

There's silence.

            " _Steve_ ," she says, standing in the middle of the hallway.

            "Are you telling me that you don't trust me?" he asks.

            "Of _course_ I trust you. I just wish you wouldn't disappear like this and not talk to me," she says, getting upset.

            "So you _don't_ trust me," he states, and she can feel him getting defensive.

            "It's a _holiday_ , Steve! Why are you working? You didn't work on Christmas—you didn't work on New Year's day—you didn't work on Martin Luther King Day—you didn't work on Memorial Day—"

            "Where is this coming from?!" Steve yells on the other line. Cherise stops talking to sit down and cry. He sighs and she can tell that he's upset about something.

            "Honey…I'm sorry. Don't cry," he says. She hangs up. If none of it is true, then why had Steve gotten so defensive when she asked him a simple question? She sits there angrily a moment longer before grabbing her keys and walking out the door. Chances are that Steve will be gone long enough that he won't notice it if she spends the night at Bucky's.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some problems with this chapter, for a few reasons. One is that I generally don't bother adding in lines from a language that I can't speak fluently/to an extent where I know that something I'm saying is correct, but I felt that it might draw a great juxtaposition between Bucky and Natasha. Thankfully, I have a friend who actually speaks Russian, so I was trying to figure out correct words and phrases I might be able to incorporate. At the same time, he told me it's a tough language to try and translate, and I've studied Arabic and Latin, so I could understand what he meant. If you're a native speaker of Russian, please excuse any unintended mistakes! 
> 
> Another reason is that I know how I want this story to go, but I seem to be getting stuck trying to go where I want...because I fell in love with Steve! I really didn't think I was going to like him as much as I do now. I always thought he was cute, but now it's like (*__*) 
> 
> A third reason I had trouble with this chapter is because of my keyboard! BuckY, not Buck (although I will occasionally and intentionally have Steve call him that)!
> 
> Song inspiration: Klaxons - It's Not Over Yet

            "Stop moving. You're going to make me cut you," Cherise says, grinning and clutching the back of Bucky's neck impatiently, pausing with his razor. He grins and grips her leg tighter where she sits on the sink. She shaves another careful line up his cheek, the shaving cream wiping away. She's naked, except for a pair of PJ shorts and a t-shirt.

            "Have you ever done this with Steve?" Bucky asks out of sheer curiosity, trying not to move his lips too much to speak. Cherise's smile fades and she pauses, gripping the back of his neck again.

            "Can you please…not talk about him?" she asks, closing her eyes a moment. Bucky rubs her back.

            "Okay. I'm sorry."

She had come to him crying, again, the previous afternoon, not long after Steve took off to go do something that just "couldn't wait." _What if he was with another woman? …What if it was Natasha? No, it couldn't be. They'd had plenty of time to decide if they wanted to be together before Steve met Cherise._ She reasons that she shouldn't feel that badly; she'd only _slept_ at Bucky's after he comforted her. He offered his bed and slept on the couch. He seemed to understand that she was genuinely upset about Steve. He hadn't tried to kiss her, which Cherise had not expected, not after their rendezvous in the kitchen at her house.

            "Ouch," Bucky says, tilting his head back a moment. Cherise gasps, placing the razor atop the sink.

            " _Shit_ —I'm so sorry," she says, gripping his shoulders and waiting to see a thin line of blood peak through what's left of the shaving cream on his chin. To Cherise's relief, Bucky smiles anyway. He even laughs.

            "I…I didn’t really think this would be a good idea, to be perfectly honest," she says, hopping down off the sink. Bucky grips her waist.

            "Please? You were almost done. It's just a little cut. It's my fault. I distracted you."

She grins shyly.

            "But your face is really beautiful, James. Don't let me fuck it up for you."

She feels sheepish as he laughs and pulls her back up to sit on the sink, with the same sort of effortless ease that reminds her again of Steve. Bucky places the razor back into her hand and turns his cheek to face her.

            "Are you sure?" she asks nervously.

            "Come on, come on," he says, waving his hands towards himself a moment before resting them on the sink on either side of her. Her hand feels strange without the weight of her wedding band and engagement ring. She misses the heavy sensation they add as she lightly draws the razor up Bucky's cheek. She had taken the rings off and left them in the cup holder of her car before walking up to the apartment complex. If something were to happen with Bucky, she couldn't bear to be wearing the rings that the Captain had put on her finger. Bucky smiles and she forgets about those rings. His electric eyes gravitate towards her.

            "You're amazing," he says, captivated, as if he's in a daze. He can see why Steve had chosen her. Bucky is able to forget his darkness in her light. The closer Cherise is, the more that light wraps him up, the less he remembers about killing and being tortured, literally and emotionally.

            "I'm not amazing," she says absently, focusing on Bucky's face. He thinks to argue with her, before realizing that she's probably thinking she's a horrible wife. Regardless, he wouldn't have called Cherise a bad person. He's damn near positive that Steve is running around on her, anyway. Cherise finishes up gently in Bucky's cleft before rinsing the blade again under the sink. She then leans back against the mirror to look at him. He turns his head left and then right.

            "Not bad. I think I did a pretty good job," she says confidently.

            "I told you," he grins. Bucky takes the razor from her and she hops down off the sink. He throws the blade away before rinsing the remnants of the shaving cream off his face. In the white tank top he's wearing, Cherise can see the place where his bionic arm attaches to his shoulder. She finds herself lost staring at it a moment. The sink stops running and Bucky reaches into the cabinet for a fresh towel. He turns around to look at her. She opens her mouth to speak, right as her phone starts ringing in the other room. Cherise rushes out of the bathroom to pick it up out of her purse on the couch. When she sees that Steve is calling her, she realizes that it's eight-fifteen in the morning, and that she had, in fact, slept at Bucky's. But she didn't sleep _with_ him. Her heart continues to race as she ignores the call.

            "Everything okay?" Bucky asks, making his way towards her and throwing the towel over his shoulder. She sighs.

            "I have to go."

            "What about breakfast?" he asks as she starts to pick up her dress off the couch.

            "Remember? I was going to make you something nice. You cook all the time. You deserve it for someone to do that for you every now and then," he adds. She pauses in front of him, as he blocks her path. Bucky places his hands on her hips.

            "Hey, you don't have to go back there if Steve isn't treating you right."

Her heart races. She still can't figure out why Bucky cares about her so goddamn much. It's almost as if…as if he loves her. She looks up at him with a sudden longing that Bucky seems to recognize automatically.

            "He does…" she sighs, "It—it was nothing. I really shouldn't have gotten as upset as I did. I didn't exactly _ask_ him directly whether he's cheating…I just wasn't happy that he left so suddenly—on a _holiday­_ —" she cuts herself short, looking away from Bucky and shaking her head. He pulls her closer and presses his lips to her forehead. Her eyes water. She can _feel_ how much Bucky cares for her, but she can't bear to let him near her like this when she's supposed to be married. And then she wonders what's really stopping her, because she had let Bucky _much_ closer than this before. Cherise's conscience causes her to back away from him. She sniffles and wipes her nose.

            "Hey…" he says gingerly, in that dulcifying tone that actually makes her feel better. She mumbles unsurely and backs away further. Bucky sighs and when she looks at him, she can tell that he's frustrated. He looks away from her a moment, biting the inside of his bottom lip. Her phone rings again.

            " _Goddamn it_ , Steve," she practically yells, shoving the phone back into her bag.

            "I'm sorry, James—I have to go home. I have to talk to him," she explains, walking around Bucky and swiftly into the bathroom, where she closes the door, locks it, and changes out of her pajamas and back into the dress she'd worn at the cookout the day before. As she looks in the mirror and tries to straighten her hair as best she can, she finds her eyes burning for want of tears. She doesn't want to be in love with Bucky, and yet she is. She can't be with him without hurting Steve. The only reason she had been able to tear herself away from Bucky was by imagining what would happen if Steve walked in and saw them together. She's certain that the Captain would never forgive her, and in the process, she would have destroyed a century-old friendship, two things she could never live with. She hears a whining noise and whips around to find Bob wagging his tail, his head tilted as he gazes up at her. She smiles. The canine hadn't left her side the moment she walked into Bucky's arms, crying her eyes out for the third time. The Labrador appears to be able to sympathize, or perhaps he was simply following after his owner. She leans down to scratch behind his ears.

            "I'm okay," she says quietly, wiping her eyes, "I promise…Can you take good care of James for me? I don't know…when I'll be back." The dog's mouth hangs open and he wags his tail happily. Steve had been really pleased to finally meet the dog at their cookout the previous day, and thoughts about her husband make Cherise feel all the more guilty. When she opens the door, Bucky is still standing in the den where he'd been when Cherise pulled away from him. Her phone continues buzzing in her purse as she reaches for the bag on the couch beside him.

            "You should really pick that up. Remember how upset you were when you couldn't find Steve?" he says, turning to face her with crossed arms. She can tell he's not happy that she's going as he smiles toothlessly, without joy. Cherise sighs.

            "Bucky, I'm sorry. I really am…but I have to try to make things work with Steve…I _love_ him…and you don't really know for sure that he's doing what you _think_ he's doing, do you? Did you see him kissing someone else?" she asks.

            "So, you still think that I would lie to you, try to trick you into liking me?"

She pauses to stand there as he looks her dead in the eyes.

            "…No. _No_. But I can't—"

            "Then why'd you come in here without your wedding rings?" Bucky asks calmly, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Cherise wasn't sure he'd have noticed that. She sighs.

            "…Because I feel bad," she begins, her voice falling apart, but she continues regardless, and knows that Bucky understands her, "about cheating on my _husband_ with his _best friend_ …so I'm sorry that it's like this, but it _is_ , and you know it!"

Bucky sighs, closing his eyes a few seconds, almost looking like he regrets what he'd said.

            "I'm _sorry_. I have to go. Thank you…for letting me spend the night."

She walks towards the door and he doesn't try to stop her. But he speaks when her hand reaches for the doorknob.

            "I _know_ that something's going on with him, whether you believe it or not. Maybe the _next_ time you come crying to me about Steve, it'll be because you realize it's true."

Part of Cherise wants to run over and slap Bucky in the face. Who did he think he was talking to?! Part of her wants to walk right back into his arms, but she doesn't spare him a glance before ducking out and closing the door behind her. She pauses outside the door when she hears Bucky's phone ringing; hers had stopped as she started walking for the door. She can hear Bucky sigh from inside before answering it.

            "Hello?"

She can't hear the other voice he's talking to, but she's quick to realize who it is when Bucky continues.

            "No, Steve. I'm sorry. I haven't seen her since the party yesterday…no, she hasn't called me…look— _calm down_ , I'm sure she's fine. She wouldn't just leave you, man." He's _lying_ for her now. Cherise knows that she's in deep at this point. She hastily walks away, texting Steve back. She hadn’t answered the one he'd sent after she missed his second call. _On my way home_.

 

            Steve stands up off the porch as Cherise pulls up into the driveway. He takes a few steps across the lawn towards her, holding the landline in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

            "We're going to be late for church…Where were you all night?" he asks, his shoulders lifting with the inquiry. She's close enough to hear as she pulls her bag out of the passenger's seat. She doesn't respond, but makes her way towards the house, casting him a glance. He's clearly impatient and looks like he had been worried. She wonders then what time he'd actually come home to realize that she wasn't there. It's nine in the morning, not as early as it had been when Steve came back from wherever it was that he'd disappeared to before. Cherise hopes, as she brushes past Steve, that he's getting a taste of his own medicine.

            " _Hey_ ," he calls, his voice bordering on anger. She continues over the threshold, and doesn't make it far before she feels Steve's hand enclose the circumference of her entire upper arm. She pauses to glare back at him.

            "I've been up since one in the morning looking for you. Where the _hell_ have you been? I was ready to call the police—none of your friends knew where you were—"

            "Don't touch me," she growls, pulling her arm back with effort. Steve closes the front door with a resounding _slam_ and she just about drops her bag. They rarely fought to the extent that voices rose, and she'd never seen him look angry quite like this before. She reasons that he must just be exhausted, if he'd really been out looking for her _that_ late.

            "We need to talk," he says, "Something's different with you," he says, pointing at her. The gesture itself is teeming with accusation. Cherise's heart jumps and she prays that Steve hasn't realized she'd started developing more than amicable feelings for his best friend. She stands her ground, crossing her arms.

            "Now, I'm going to ask you again and I'd really appreciate it if you could give me an honest answer…where were you?"

Cherise takes a deep breath and makes her way a little bit closer. She looks up into Steve's eyes.

            "I went out for a drive," she starts, lowering her voice so that the Captain really has to stop seething and listen in order to hear her, "and lost track of time," she says, cocking a brow wisely, feeling this burning anger that is at the same time triumphant as she turns her back on him. His hand wraps around her arm again and she nearly loses balance at the pace with which she had begun to storm off.

            "Don't _walk away_ from me," he says. She knows how much he hates this, which is why she'd made an effort to do it. He's not squeezing her to a point of pain, but enough that she has to put some effort in to reclaim her arm.

            " _Don't_ grab me like that again!" She shouts, gravitating to the landing of the stairs as she backs up. Steve recoils just a little bit. Cherise is not afraid to thrash him verbally, knowing how much the Captain would find it below himself to hit her. She begins to cry anyway.

            "You _never_ told me where you went when you left—where were _you,_ Steven?! Huh, where were you?! You're _fucking_ somebody, aren't you?!"

She watches his heart break as her words impale him, and knows that he wasn't fucking anyone else. Had Bucky, _really_ lied to her after all? …He wanted her that badly.

            "What?! Could you speak a bit louder? I can't hear over the sound of you _fucking_ some other bitch," Cherise yells. Steve makes his way towards her slowly.

            "How can you say that?" he asks calmly. His eyes drift to her hand, "Where's your wedding ring?" he asks. She turns to stone for a moment.

            "You know what," she breathes, wiping her eyes, "I'll _tell_ you where I was. I'll tell you, because I _wish_ you wouldn't keep whatever it is from me," she says. Steve takes a step up closer and she backs up one. He looks extremely apologetic now.

            "I was at a friend's...okay? That's where I was, because I didn't want to spend the night alone." This is the truth, even if she doesn't tell him which friend. She rushes up the stairs and out of his sight before he can say another word. He can't believe how he'd just lied. He _is_ cheating on her, even though he hasn't slept with Natasha. He'd been with her after Peggy's funeral, in ways that he should have been home with Cherise. After the cookout, Steve had genuinely gone to his office to take care of some paperwork he'd meant to finish for a meeting the following Monday, a presentation he couldn't afford to not be prepared for. Cherise's call had caught him off guard in his anxiety, but she hadn't been wrong, and he was just short with her the whole time. It isn't that he's not _happy_ with her, he's simply in love with two women at the same time.

            The night before the cookout, he'd slipped out of bed while Cherise slept to listen to that voicemail on his phone, the one where he _knows_ that he can hear Bucky kiss her. It had made him crazy angry the first dozen or so times he heard it, but he refuses to believe that Bucky would betray him like that. Steve can't explain why he keeps listening to that voicemail. Part of him even hopes that Cherise _is_ cheating on him. He's doing it to her, too. It would wound him deeply to know that she really is, but if it turned out to _actually_ be Bucky…he couldn't be sure what he'd do as a response. Steve also knows that Bucky is onto him. He'd already gone far enough as to admit to Bucky that he'd cheated on Cherise early in their relationship.

 

            Back at Steve's old apartment, Bucky decides he'd better pay Natasha a visit. He could have told Cherise at any time that Steve is fucking Natasha, but to the best of his knowledge, that's not _actually_ what they've been doing. He thinks that Cherise is genuinely friends with the redhead. He wouldn't have wanted to compromise that. He puts himself in his own shoes. If Steve finds out that he'd bedded Cherise, it would mean the end of their friendship. It had hurt Bucky enough to hold Cherise and listen to her cry about Steve. Therefore, if Natasha and Cherise are genuinely friends, he thinks that Natasha wouldn't want to ruin Cherise's marriage and kill their friendship. He doesn't think Natasha is helping the situation. It seems to him that lately Cherise keeps confiding in him about the problems she and Steve are having. He feels so many conflictions all at once. He wants his best friend's wife to be with him, but he wants to save their marriage. Bucky realizes that he can't have his cake and eat it too.

            He pauses, cursing under his breath near Natasha's house. He had parked three blocks away, knowing that if she sees him coming, and she really _is_ fucking Steve, she'll probably try and make a run for it. Bucky makes his way closer to her house, spotting that alluring black car in the driveway. He walks up the front steps, and right as he goes to knock on the door, it swings open. Natasha stares up at him with some confusion.

            "James, what are you doing here?"

He guesses she must have been looking out the window and seen him coming.

            "изме́нница," he says. He needn't speak to her in Russian, but he'd forgotten momentarily that Cherise isn't standing beside him, crying over Steve. Natasha cocks a flaming brow and crosses her arms.

            "ты, кто такая грубишь?" She spits, looking him up and down. He closes his eyes a painful moment. If she is guilty, so is he. To his surprise, she doesn't close the door in his face. Instead, Natasha stands to her full height and keeps his gaze. Bucky swears he sees her eyes water just a little bit, and then he realizes that she probably feels exactly the same way that he does.

            "…You're gonna have to stop fucking Steve," he says, meaning it.

            "Does that mean you're gonna stop fucking his wife?" Natasha retorts, cocking her head to the side.

            "Hey, I'm _serious_ ," Bucky says, and he finds himself brandishing a metallic finger. Natasha doesn't flinch.

            "You'd better quit acting like you don't know what's going on," he says, "I _know_ he was with you that day, after Peggy's funeral." He waits for Natasha to admit it.

            "…I didn't _tell_ him to come over—he came to me, so I comforted him. Not that it's _any_ of your business, but I haven't been fucking him. I've never fucked him—"

            "лжи." Bucky speaks over her.

            "Steve _came_ to me. The _same way_ Cherise went to you…she went to you, didn't she?"

Bucky knows that his expression is telling all of his secrets. Natasha's eyes continue to read.

            "She was worried about _Steve_ —"

            "врун," she says, speaking over him. Now they're just trying to one-up each other.

            "I'm telling the truth!" he says.

            "Then I guess we've both been lying to ourselves," she says. They stand there in silence a moment.

            "Weren't we on the same side once, Nat?"

She grins just a bit, almost unnoticeably.

            "I think it's sad that you thought you could _actually_ lie to me on the phone," he says. For a moment, they both wallow in their misery.

            "It's not who we are anymore, Barnes."

He sighs and crosses his arms.

            "It isn't fair, I know," she adds, looking away, her eyes watering a little more.

            "He kept…pulling away from me, though…just so slightly. And…I know it's because he loves her…she pulls away from you, too, doesn't she?"

            "Yet, she keeps coming back."

            "And you aren't about to stop her?"

            "…I know that I should, but I can't."

            "Then why tell _me_ what to do?"

            "Because, I thought by the looks of it you're _actually_ Cherise's friend. And if you _are_ , then you know she's gonna die when she finds out. It's just a matter of time before it stops being emotional and gets physical."

Natasha looks away. She knows that an emotional affair is probably no less traitorous than a physical one. Perhaps her emotional affair with Steve has been going on before he ever even _met_ Cherise.

            "Well, if you're telling me that, then it's safe to assume you already slept with your best friend's wife. Now you're just warning me not to do the same to Cherise."

 

            Cherise continues to ignore Steve as he lies beside her in their bed. She'd gone so far as to take three teaspoons of Benadryl to try and put herself out before he got out of the shower. Alas her thoughts run wild and keep her an inch away from drifting off. She doesn't want to look at the Captain and wonder whether Bucky had told her the truth. She doesn't want him to touch her, if he's really been doing what Bucky thinks he's been doing. The thought of Steve on some other woman makes Cherise angry, and reminds her how disgusting she is for having actually allowed Steve to touch her _right_ after she'd been with Bucky.

            She feels him get closer, anyway, look over her shoulder. She keeps her eyes closed.

            "Reese," he says quietly. He pushes his hand beneath the blanket to cup her hip and shake gently.

            "You're not sleeping…I don't like this," he admits, pulling her to turn around. She opens her eyes, sighing.

            "Why won't you just _tell me_ where you were?" she asks, sitting up, pulling his hands away the more they reach for her.

            "I was at the office. I swear. Why would I lie about—?"

            " _No_ , the other time—when I couldn’t find you? Just _tell me_ ," she begs, her eyes watering again.

            "Just tell me you're not happy and that…I'm not enough for you—or whatever it is—just say it, Steve."

He looks at her so sadly that it makes her cry even more.

            "I _am_ happy with you…I love you, baby. I just needed to get away for a while—that's all. It had nothing to do with you," he says. She wipes her eyes. Steve is dying to ask her about Bucky, but he knows that he shouldn't think so poorly of his best friend. Perhaps he'd been over thinking it. _He was just kissing her on the cheek…he was just trying to comfort her._ Cherise shakes her head, not believing it still. She's _already_ crying, how can he possibly tell her that he was lying on Natasha's couch, crying about Peggy, crying because he _also_ loves Natasha and can't be with her? He reaches for a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wipes Cherise's eyes, reaching for her until she stops pulling away from him. As she grips his bicep, he notices that she's wearing her rings again. She doesn't usually sleep with them on, for fear of losing or breaking them.

            "I'm sorry," she breathes.

            "Me, too." He kisses her on the cheek. The pair lean against the headboard of their bed, silently expressive. Cherise kisses Steve apologetically. He kisses her back…There had always been something so pleasantly sweet about make-up sex with Steve. Cherise finds herself happy she didn't sleep with Bucky the previous night. It would have made her feel disgusted with herself in this moment. At least now she knows she's not doing anything wrong, as Steve's big, warm hands keep her legs from closing against his ears when she undulates bodily, unable to see straight while pulling her hands through his hair. She sits up slightly to peer down at him. A pair of icy eyes gaze up from between her thighs with a dark lust that is generally not present when they're not having sex. She had begun to sweat afresh. The Captain pushes a hand up her bare stomach, cupping a breast, and she drops back down again. He draws her legs over his shoulders, continuing to gormandize her, despite Cherise's trembling and clawing at the sheets. She can tell that he's genuinely sorry. All he wants to do now is make her feel good. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fuck do they both have to be so sexy?

            The backs of Cherise's knees begin to sweat as the Captain holds them in place from where he stands at the edge of the bed. He's so strong and beautiful that she can't take her eyes off him, and continues moaning her head off. Despite the season, it's a cool night, and Steve feels like a hot fire inside of her. A pleasant fire. She feels herself getting wetter with each thrust, her legs beginning to tremble all over again. She invites the sweat that continues dripping out of every pore.

            "Oh god, Steve…shit," she breathes, a few seconds closer, until finally, the zenith. He groans, pausing where her body clings around him so desperately. He makes his way into bed again, pulling her up the mattress, hovering over her like a massive coal. When she presses her hands to his chest, it's burning up, the blood coursing feverishly beneath his skin. He's trying to catch his breath, and she just touches him all over, still mesmerized by his arms and torso, his body's unwavering strength and grace, the backside where she grabs him appreciatively. A part of his soul seems to pour out into her with his orgasm, and she doesn't feel dirty anymore. She knows in her heart that she loves Steve. But it had felt this way as well when she had laid beneath Bucky a few months prior.

 

            She awakes at 7:30 on Monday morning, Steve gone, as usual. He tends to get up around 5:30 for a run before work. Sometimes, she wonders whether he actually runs _to_ work. Cherise quickly notices that something is stuck to her forehead. She pulls a post-it note off her face and laughs out loud to find a message from Steve.

            "I love you," she reads out loud, her voice groggy with sleep. She walks to the calendar she'd hung on the wall months ago and sticks it there, before pausing to count back the number of days since her last period. Her heart stops a moment as she pulls the page back a month, and then another month, not finding the usual tick marks she leaves on the days where she starts.

            "Wait," she says quietly to herself, staring at the calendar, "Wait, wait, wait." She tries to think back to when she had stopped taking the pill. It must have been shortly after Hawaii. She'd intended to stay on it at least up until her honeymoon. She hadn't wanted a period to get in the way of beaches and sex, of course. Cherise pulls the calendar back to April and finds that there are still no tick marks. Then again, she hasn't done much of anything with this calendar. She'd been incredibly wrapped up in last minute wedding plans that she hadn't been concerned about keeping track of monthlies.

            "Wait, I…" As she stares again at the month of May, her heart stops. She thinks back to right around the time she'd slept with Bucky. She realizes, with a pang that hurts her heart and stomach simultaneously, that if she's pregnant now, it's very possible that Bucky might even be the reason. She drops to the bed and sits there, staring into space, thinking. _But how could that be? It was just one stupid time. Come on, Cherise, you know basic biology_ _—you only have to have sex once on the right day…but it can't be…but you know what you did, no protection involved…what if…?_   She finds her hands trembling as she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stares at herself in the mirror, lifts her tank top, and stands to the side to look at her stomach. It doesn’t look much different than usual.

            Cherise throws off all her clothes and stares at her body. It doesn't seem to have changed, except to be glowing after her amazing night with the Captain. She showers slowly, wasting time that she knows will make her late for work, feeling her abdomen as if there's already something in there kicking. She racks her brain and then decides that she's probably overreacting. It's not unusual to be late after getting on and off the pill over the past ten years, as she's been doing. But she keeps thinking about it at work, and the following day, and again, until by Thursday, it's all that she can think about. She doesn't even remember that it's her own birthday as she walks into Stop & Shop at 5:30 in the afternoon. She makes her way to the body care aisle and grabs a number of pregnancy tests, not even minding the prices. Her heart is racing. She pauses and bangs her head against the shelf a moment, crying like a child.

            Cherise reasons that if she's pregnant, even if it is Steve's, she doesn't quite feel that the timing is correct. She and Steve only just established their home, their marriage, some things they're still figuring out for the future. There's no room for a baby now…No, it's because of Bucky. She hasn't been able to stop thinking about him, about how much he's probably hurting because he can't be with her. She realizes that she can't very well run to him for consolation over _this_ new worry, as he would have also been concerned that if she's pregnant, it's not Steve's baby. She has no idea what James would have wanted to do about it, and the uncertainty makes her feel even more guilty. It takes Cherise a moment to realize that her phone is vibrating in her pocket.

            She has to drop a number of boxes to answer it. She debates on picking up when she sees that it's Steve calling. She swallows her fears and reaches down to pick up three different boxes and balance them in her free hand.

            "Honey, where are you?" The Captain asks. She can tell from the sound of his voice that he's smiling.

            "…A-at the store. Why?" she breathes, replacing some of the tests she'd pulled off the shelf and trying to decide on just one.

            "I just wanted to say happy birthday. I didn't even get to this morning. When are you coming home?" he asks.

            "Awww…I love you, Steve. I'll be home soon—I'm just grabbing a couple of things at the store."

            "Okay. I can't wait to see you," he says.

            "Wait—you're home already?" she asks. It's not frequent that Steve is home between 5:00 and 5:30.

            "I had to be back early enough to celebrate with you, baby."  _Baby_. She swallows hard, wishing he hadn't said that word. She stares down at the pregnancy test in her hand and goes silent, until Steve is saying her name repeatedly on the other line.

            "I—I'll be home. Okay?" she says, finally deciding on a test and rushing down the aisle to the cashier.

            "Are you okay?" he asks. Cherise knows that she should have pulled herself together a bit better before picking up the phone. The Captain can already tell that something is up.

            "Yeah! Fine. Just been a long day," she says more energetically, "I'll be right there, okay? In about fifteen." She hangs up the phone and swears to herself upon looking at all the lines, people with carts. She hurries to self checkout where someone is just finishing, and then quickly realizes that she has just told Steve where she is. Chances are, he's waiting at home with a cake. So he would expect her to bring back some food item or other and put it away in the kitchen. Cherise hurries back to the aisle she had just come down. She grabs a bottle of body wash, some bandages, a bottle of lotion, knowing that Steve wouldn’t have paid too much attention to a bag full of toiletries. She grabs a case of sanitary napkins as well, just to make the bag look even less inviting. After checking out, she makes sure to double bag the items, so that the white plastic is more opaque. She'd made an effort to stuff the pregnancy test at the very bottom.

            She sighs upon sitting in her car, deciding that if she's pregnant, she's not ready to be a parent, anyway. Steve would never have to know, and certainly not Bucky. But she cringes at the thought of having an abortion without the Captain being aware that she was even pregnant. She knows that he's not exactly in favor of it, either, which would make her feel even _worse_ about having it done. But if it just _happened_ to be Bucky's, eventually the child would grow up, and that would be clear, wouldn't it? And how could she do that to him? She stops crying when she turns the radio on to distract herself. She can't be this upset when she gets home to celebrate her birthday. She can't believe she'd actually forgotten it, too. But Steve happened to remember it. She smiles to herself. People tend to only remember things like that when they love you, right?

            When she walks up to the front steps, everything seems to be in order. It otherwise feels like a perfectly normal day. The sun is still setting in the warm evening, and Cherise struggles with her key a moment before opening the door. She walks in and closes it, calling out for Steve. She presses her forehead against the door a moment and swears under her breath.

            "Steve, I'm here," she calls, placing her purse on the small table by the door. She opens the shopping bags and moves the items around until she can see that she had, in fact, purchased a pregnancy test. She swallows hard a moment before starting down the hall. The next thing she knows, Bob comes walking out from the den a few feet away.

            "Bob? What are _you_ doing here, puppy?" she asks, laughing and reaching down, waiting to pet him. She hadn't seen Bucky's car parked outside. Bob is making his way towards her excitedly with a conical party hat on his head. When she looks up again, Bucky is following suit, both hands behind his back and a matching hat on his head.

            "Surprise!" And she turns around to find a load of her friends beaming, confetti being thrown in the air, and party horns blaring. Steve leads the group and Cherise is taken by complete surprise. The Captain swoops her up, and her eyes are still wide with genuine shock. The shopping bag leaves her hand and her heart stops. She can't tell up from down for a moment while Steve presses his lips to hers. She grins into his kiss and then immediately pulls away to find that Kate had taken the bag from her to hold onto. Sam, Natasha, some of Steve's other friends, and even two of her friends from college, surround her, blowing confetti into the air and wishing her a happy birthday. Steve had not let go of her waist, and she feels him kiss her on the cheek. When she spots Bucky, she finds him holding a decent sized box, wrapped in purple paper with a white bow on top. Something about his smile is…not complete, and she knows that it must pain him to see her with Steve when he wants her so badly. She hasn’t had a chance to confront him again about Steve cheating. From the way that the Captain grips her waist, she can't believe that it's true.

            She spots Kate's hands wrapping the bag up, and is relieved that she hadn't looked around in it at all. Kate is further distracted by Sam kissing her on the cheek a moment.

            "Wow. You guys got me good." Cherise hadn't heard a thing. She realizes that everybody else must have been hiding in the sun room by the door when she'd come in.

            "It was Bucky's idea to have Bob come out and surprise you first," Steve adds before kissing her again. She smiles and Bucky hands her the gift. She thanks him, reaching over his shoulder for a one-armed hug. Being in his embrace again feels so good that she hates for it to end. And when it does, she finds Kate handing the shopping bag to Steve. She panics on the inside, grabbing it from Steve and adding hastily that she should get changed before they cut the cake.

            "I'll be right back—five minutes," she swears, rushing away. Everyone is laughing and having a good time downstairs as she hurries to wash her face and put on a dress. Cherise makes a point to hide the pregnancy test in her own drawer in the bathroom. Steve never has reason to go in there, and she never has reason to go into his. She wonders how Bucky could really think that Steve is cheating on her if he'd gone to all the trouble to set up a surprise birthday party…

 

            "Why did you lie to me?" she asks on the front steps, as Steve continues to clean up in the house, everyone else having left. Bucky pushes his hands into his pockets and gazes down at her. Cherise's skin feels like it's on fire to have that electric stare on her, just like it does when she's in bed with Steve.

            "About what?" Bucky asks.

            "…You know what I'm talking about," she says, lowering her voice, stepping out the front door further. She'd only caught Bucky right before he was getting into his car. Bob is standing in it, waiting with his head stuck out the window.

            "Why did you think that Steve was cheating on me?" she whispers.

            "…Let me ask you something. Do you really trust all of your friends?" he asks. He still can't bring himself to reveal to her Natasha's feelings for Steve. So far as Bucky knows, she hasn't gone as far as to try and fuck him.

            "What is that supposed to mean?" Cherise asks, crossing her arms.

            "There are things I want to tell you, things I wish I could say to you, things that I feel that I can't…" Bucky's lips screw up into frustration.

            "You're _all_ I can fucking think about. Every day, no matter where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing. I just—I don't want to see you get hurt, Cherise…and I'm only staying away because of that. Because I know you could never forgive yourself if Steve ever finds out what we did."

Her neck and cheeks redden. Bucky's eyes are scanning this reaction under the porch lights, and she knows that it probably makes him feel the same way.

            "I just don't understand why you _lied_ to me—"

            "I didn't lie. I'm telling the truth. Why would I lie about that? Steve's my _best_ friend…I've been debating telling you something more—and I know I probably shouldn't. It's your birthday," he says, smiling. Cherise can tell that this gesture is forced. He is being torn from the inside out standing so close to her and yet not being able to touch her, for fear of Steve walking out at any moment.

            "Never mind. Good night, Reese. Happy birthday, doll."

He kisses her on the cheek so quickly that it's almost as if she hadn't felt his lips there. He starts down the stairs and Cherise grabs his mechanical elbow. He stops dead in his tracks, looking back at her with wide eyes. She pulls him back in, making sure that the door is shut all the way, before standing on her toes to kiss him full on the lips. Bucky can't react for a moment. She finds that it takes him a few seconds to hold her and start kissing back. The moment lasts almost a complete minute. Bucky had pulled her up off her feet, and she sure felt as if she'd been swept off her feet. But he puts her down hastily, crushing the moment, and taking such a large step back that she finds him on the lawn when the door pulls open behind her and Steve steps out, wrapping her in his arms.

            "Saying goodnight to the birthday girl?" he asks. Cherise realizes that Bucky must have heard Steve coming. She sure as hell didn't. He laughs and hides the expression that would have otherwise been on his face, had Steve not walked out.

            "Of course. It would have been rude of me to leave without doing so," Bucky says, waving at Steve.

            "Thanks, Buck. It really went well. I think she was super confused when Bob came out of nowhere."

Bucky laughs genuinely. Cherise is glad that Steve cannot see her face, the oeillade she knows she's sending Bucky's way. She can't catch her breath, watching as Bucky and Steve talk over her head, making plans to meet at their favourite bar the following week, because Steve is taking her out tomorrow night for dinner. Bucky isn't looking at her anymore. He hadn't since Steve came out behind her, and Cherise wonders whether he's not looking at her on purpose. Perhaps he wouldn't have been able to control his face if he did. And then she watches him drive away, Steve starting on her shoulder with warm kisses that she suddenly doesn't want.

 

            Steve can't help but notice that Cherise had seemed somewhat removed in bed the night of her birthday. She had looked at him, but it felt like she wasn't really looking at him, even when she moaned and gasped. He had felt the same way during dinner Friday night, when he took her to the same restaurant he'd surprised her with months prior. Her smile, her kiss, something just seems different. Steve had been going out of his way to stop thinking about Natasha. It was mostly Bucky, Sam, and Kate who helped him plan the surprise party. The Captain knew that he had to distract himself from Natasha, or he'd ruin his marriage. He hates how upset he'd made Cherise those couple of times since their wedding. He thinks all of this on a Monday morning as he brushes his teeth at the sink.

            He hastens to rinse his mouth out, pulling open the drawer where he keeps his deodorant at the same time. He places his toothbrush back in the holder on the sink and then looks down to realize that he'd opened Cherise's drawer by mistake. He nearly closes it before something catches his eyes in the back. He remembers seeing something like it on TV a couple of times during the commercials, and despite knowing he shouldn't be in Cherise's drawer at all, he pulls it open further. The box stares out at him from inside, secretively. The captain picks it up and reads the label, and he has to sit down on the small bench in the shower a moment, because his heart is simply racing too fast.

            The box is open, but he dares not reach inside for the instructions. He knows for damn certain what this is. He laughs to himself a moment, a smile lighting his face. Steve finds himself a mix of nerves and joy all at once. He finds himself wanting to know immediately whether Cherise is actually pregnant. Natasha crosses his mind, in a moment where he knows she should not have, and he finds himself wiping a tear of relief that he has not slept with her. He's only been to see her once after that time he'd left for a very long time and had Cherise worried half to death. Even then, he had only kissed her. He feels disgusted with himself, to know what he'd done while Cherise thought he was still at work. He can't really let Natasha go, despite realizing that this is going to have to stop, now that he's going to be a father.

            Steve hurries to put the box back exactly the way that he'd found it in Cherise's drawer, in case she rushes into the bathroom for some reason or other. He spots a few empty birth control cases, only knowing that they're empty because he opens them to check. He then closes the drawer hastily. They never snooped through each other's things. They trusted each other…or at least they used to. But as he rubs on his deodorant, Steve wonders whether this is still the case. Cherise had thought there might be someone else (which isn't exactly wrong), she'd thought that Steve had tried to go and off himself after Peggy died (which wasn't the case, but he had still lied about where he was), so perhaps she might not completely trust him. If she doesn't trust him, why would she want to have a baby with him? Steve pauses while combing his damp hair back. He wonders how long that pregnancy test has been in the back of Cherise's drawer. He wonders why she hasn't told him she's pregnant. He tries to reason with himself by thinking that maybe she isn't sure he'll be happy about it. He's always working so late. How would he have time to help her take care of a baby? Would he even be a good father while trying to balance his work, something that's still really important to him? As the Captain walks into their bedroom, Cherise still asleep, he hopes that she hasn't lost faith in him. He pauses to sit atop the quilt and kiss her temple lingeringly before leaving for the day.

            Come that night, Cherise still hasn't said anything to him. The next night, she doesn't mention it. The week progresses and she doesn't tell him anything new, even when he specifically asks her whether anything is new. The Captain begins to worry. He finds himself not wanting to rush her, at the same time, and staring as she steps out of the shower on Saturday night. She only smiles at him, unaware that he's trying to figure out if she looks any different. He can't make out any distinct changes, but notices the way that Cherise opens her drawer only far enough to pull out a container of Q-tips. Clearly, she isn't planning on telling him anything any time soon.

 

 

            "Move it, you big brownie," Bucky says, sliding Bob off the rug with his foot as he steps out of the shower. The dog rolls over and waits to have his belly rubbed. Cherise had slept on Bucky's couch that Saturday night the other weekend, and he hasn't sat on it or touched it since. He doesn't want her essence to dissipate. He's been sitting on the floor to watch the TV. As he straightens his tie in the mirror and makes his way out of the apartment, he finds himself continuing to dream about living in his own house. He's making enough now to get one, but he doesn't like the thought of living in it alone. He pictures Cherise in a kitchen, in one of her breezy dresses, walking and leaving magic in her midst, on everything she touches, everything she does. By the time he makes it to his new office, he still can't believe that it's actually _his_. He checks his voicemail, standing before a large window and watching the sun continue to shine across Washington, D.C., as Stark goes on about a new prototype that's almost ready to be trialed for amputees. Business is booming, but Bucky has yet to feel complete.

            "Mr. Barnes, you have a visitor." The somewhat timid voice of his secretary greets his ears as she walks through his open office doors.

            "I didn't see an appointment this early, so I wasn't sure you wanted me to let him in," she adds. Steve walks right through the door.

            "It's okay, Yves, he's a friend," Bucky smiles. She nods and asks Steve whether he'd like a cup of coffee or tea.

            "No. But thank you."

            "Would you like the doors closed, Mr. Barnes?"

            "It doesn't matter," he says, not really caring. She closes them anyway, disappearing.

            " _Steve_ , what a surprise," Bucky grins, walking around his glass desk and leaning atop it.

            "Wow. I just had to come and see for myself."

Bucky laughs.

            "Shouldn't _you_ be at work?"

The Captain laughs.

            "You've really got it made here, Buck. I'm happy for you."

Bucky grins, but his gaze is cast downwards in a lost sort of way.

            "What _actually_ brings you here this early? I won't forget this week, I promise. Seven-thirty—sharp—with Sam at Lou's—"

            "I'm not here about the bar," Steve interrupts. Bucky notes the hint of worry on his face.

            "Is something wrong?"

Steve sighs.

            "I think that…" Steve trails off, pushing a hand nervously through his hair a moment.

            "I think Cher might be pregnant."

Bucky's heart stops a moment. It's only been about two months since he slept with her. He wonders for a moment whether…

            "I—I mean, I don't know _for sure_. I was brushing my teeth on Monday morning a week ago and I was in a hurry, I guess. I pulled open Cherise's drawer by mistake and saw that an open pregnancy test was in there. But she hasn't said anything to me yet."

            "…Wow, Steve. I'm really not sure what to say," Bucky admits.

Steve smiles in a way that looks like a mix of hope and worry at the same time.

            "I mean…I really hope she's pregnant. But the fact that she hasn’t said anything to me about it makes me worry that maybe she doesn't plan on telling me…maybe she doesn't want it." The Captain gravitates towards the couch absently and sits there, staring out the window at the sun. It illuminates him in a way that makes his every feature very clear to Bucky.

            "I just hope that she wouldn't do something about it and not talk to me first…You must have noticed we've been fighting more than I'd like to since we got married." He sighs and his shoulders slump, and he shakes his head a moment in a discontent sort of way. Bucky is at a loss for words. His heart is racing. He only hopes that if Cherise is in fact pregnant, that he isn't the one that knocked her up. Otherwise there'd be a lot of explaining to do when the kid came out looking like him and not Steve.

            "Anyway, I just wanted to know…whether you knew anything about it. Has she mentioned anything to you? I started thinking about it a lot. Maybe that's why she was so upset when I got shot the other month…Maybe she thought she was pregnant then and was worried I'd die on her before our kid came along. I wanted to ask Natasha about it, because I know she talks to her, but I figure they're pretty good friends. So if it's true, she probably wouldn't tell me anyway. Have you talked to Natasha at all? Did she mention it?" Steve's worry begins to make Bucky's heart crumble. The Captain looks to him so hopefully that Bucky finds his tongue tied a moment longer.

            "…I'm sorry to just barge in here and throw this at you. But I don't really trust that many people, and I don't want just _anyone_ knowing."

            "Steve, why don't you talk to Cherise about it? If…if she's pregnant, I'm sure she's just as nervous as you are. Maybe that's why she hasn't told you yet."

            "I don't know. I still feel like she's angry with me…"

As she should be, and the Captain knows it. He hasn't stopped wanting Natasha, stealing away to spend minor moments in her arms instead of Cherise's.

            "I really wish I had more to tell you, but I've never dealt with that." Bucky finds himself glad that his secretary had closed the doors after all.

            "I guess this is strange to be telling you, but Cherise seems to talk to you whenever she's mad at me. I thought maybe she might still be, and…maybe it's because of what I do for a living, and she doesn't think I'll have the time to be a good dad…"

            "Rogers…you're going to be a kickass dad some day."

 

 

 

It comes as a surprise when Cherise knocks on Bucky's door at 6:00. He steps aside to let her in.

            "Steve," she sighs before continuing, "said he's going to be late coming home. He's on another mission," she explains, walking straight over to Bucky's couch and sitting down.

            "Oh, I know. He and Sam and I were gonna go to the bar tonight, but they both cancelled on me…What are you doing here?" he asks, following her, "Not that I'm not happy to see you."

Cherise has already pulled her feet up on the couch, and is crying silently into her hands. She had caved. She tried to tell herself that she wasn't going to go to Bucky and cry this time. Not this time.

            "Reese?"

She never moves her hands from her eyes to look at him. Bucky immediately guesses that she's worried about Steve. She doesn't seem to have gotten used to the fact that what he does for a living is dangerous. Bucky is silent as he pulls her into his arms.

            "What did he do this time?" he asks out of curiosity. Maybe they had another fight. He kisses her forehead and waits for her to answer. When she finally looks up at him, she's not sure what to say, so her mouth just hangs open. She shrugs.

            "He didn't do anything. I just feel…like this is too hard. I love Steve. I really do…but you…" she looks away from him nervously.

            "I know." He isn't sure what else to say.

Silence passes, during which time, Cherise plays absently with the hems of her jeans, Bucky's arm still wrapped around her shoulders.

            "Were you going to tell Steve that you're pregnant?" he asks. He couldn't stand waiting to find out any longer. Cherise feels the colour drain from her a moment. Her eyebrows furrow and he quickly realizes that he should have kept his mouth shut. The only reason he'd mentioned it is because he's worried that he's the one responsible and not Steve.

            "…Excuse me? How the hell did you even _know_ about that?" she asks, backing up before standing up off the couch. Bucky follows her to stand.

            "Wait—I didn't—"

            "What did you do?"

            "No, it's not—I didn't—he came to me this morning and told me that he saw a pregnancy test in the bathroom. He's been waiting for you to tell him yourself."

            "…This is none of your business," she says, crossing her arms defensively. Bucky sighs.

            "Look, he said he saw it by mistake. He was in a hurry and accidentally opened your drawer…the only reason that I'm bringing this up is because…"

Cherise closes her eyes tightly, unable to think about it.

            "…Do you think it's mine?" he asks delicately. Bucky had already contemplated this. When comparing how frequently Cherise has sex with Steve to that _one time_ that they slept together, Bucky is hoping the chances of him having gotten her pregnant are very slim.

            "Cherise," he says gently, putting his hands on her waist. She refuses to open her eyes. He gets closer to her, presses his lips to her forehead. She places her hands on his chest, but not in an attempt to push him away, to Bucky's complete relief.

            "…I don't know," she says, "I never even took the test to begin with," she admits in such an uncertain voice that Bucky knows she's actually scared.

            "I…I don't know if…"

Bucky just pulls her into both arms and she breathes heavily against his chest, almost as if she's having a panic attack.

            "If you are, I wouldn't doubt that it's Steve's," he says, trying to make her feel better. She only breathes anxiously in response. He pulls her back. She's hyperventilating, not crying. Bucky cups Cherise's cheeks.

            "Hey," he says. Her eyes are wide and it scares him. He brings her to sit down.

            "I'm sure it's got to be Steve's…It's all going to be okay—"

            "No, it's _not_ , James. It's not. I'm—I'm not ready to be a mother anyway," Cherise admits, clutching her chest with both hands nervously.

            "Steve's not going to be happy when I tell him that. And I can't hide it now, anyway. He knows."

            "This isn't your fault, Reese."

She looks him in the eyes then.

            "What if it's yours?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration Eisley - Please

            Bucky decides that he prefers this couch more when Cherise is lying on it with him. She has fallen asleep against his chest, his arm strewn over her lower back. It's a hot night, but he doesn't mind her being this close. He closes his eyes a moment, pretending she's married to him instead, and she's only just come home from a lousy day at work to spend time with him. Time that she had been looking forward to all day long. He dares not move for a good hour, until she awakens with a start.

            "It's okay," he says, automatically, pulling his flesh hand down the back of her head. She blinks unsurely a moment, as if she has forgotten where she is. Bucky sits up a bit straighter before pressing his lips to her forehead.

            "What time is it?" she asks sleepily.

            "Almost quarter past seven," he says, not wanting to move his lips from her skin. She groans in an uncomfortable way before sitting up.

            "My back hurts," she mutters, "I should go home. I should go home," she says to herself, reaching for her purse to pull the phone out of it. Bucky faces her.

            "Steve won't even be there."

            "…I know, but I'd like to go home and get a hot bath," she says, checking through her phone while simultaneously massaging her lower back. There are no missed calls and no messages. She sighs with some relief. She looks at Bucky almost shyly for a moment before dropping her phone back in the bag. She reaches down to stroke Bob, who had come to nap beside the couch.

            "You don't have to go, if you really don't want to," Bucky says gently. Cherise sighs.

            "I don't really want to—but just because I'm not sure whether or not I want to be alone right now…I like being with you, James…but I should probably…go home and take that test. I need to be ready to talk to Steve and figure out what I'm going to do." She stares into space a moment.

            "Do you want me to come with you?" he asks. She looks at him for a number of seconds, and he can see that she's holding back tears. She grins a moment before shaking her head for no. He clasps her hand.

            "Reese—"

            "Please," she breathes, closing her eyes, "Every time you call me that, it makes me think of Steve. He's usually the only one who calls me that."

Bucky ponders this a moment, realizing that he can't really call her Cher, either. It would only remind her of Steve again.

            "Cherry," he says, after having thought long enough that a silence had fallen. To Bucky's surprise, she laughs a bit. He smiles.

            "I just…I want you to know that I care about you…a lot. And if you got pregnant because of me, then I'm really sorry…but if _I_ were in Steve's place, I wouldn't be angry if you weren't ready to be a mother…I just want you to be happy…even if that's not going to be with me." Cherise's heart drops into the pit of her stomach like a heavy weight at Bucky's words. He had looked away from her when finishing his last sentence, and she feels a sense of torment that hurts viscerally. She can't stop herself from practically projectile kissing him as she leaps across the couch. He's quick to catch her, as if he'd known all along that she was going to do this. He exhales a heavy, hot breath into her mouth that is maddeningly arousing. Her back pinches and she moans out of discomfort, digging her nails gently into Bucky's chest, the ring and pinky fingers of her right hand clutching a bit higher and making contact with the space where the bionic limb attaches to his shoulder. He breaks the kiss unceremoniously, and she gasps for air.

            "Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asks, his eyes peering out of the corners at the shiny arm. Bucky asks her this in a tone that makes her think he's afraid she can't love him because of this. Cherise cups Bucky's cheek, and his galvanic gaze sends a high voltage current down her spine.

            "…You felt that?" she asks quietly, in reference to her fingers.

            "Some things I can feel. Sometimes, I don't." She thinks back to the time that she'd seen him grab the hot end of the iron at her house. It didn't seem to bother him, as if he didn't even notice. Cherise finds herself saddened for this injury. She wonders whether the contraption ever causes him pain, phantom limb. She finds herself wanting to know how it happened in the first place. After all this time, she doesn't really know his whole story. Before she'd known him, she'd been too afraid to even ask the Captain about it. Bucky's still staring down at her. She shakes her head in the negative slowly, answering his question. She had noticed how gentle he seems to be with that hand, remembers how it barely gripped her hip when she straddled him. He seems to try to intentionally avoid touching her with it much at all, most of the time. She realizes that if she doesn't go, something will happen again. As she stands up, Bucky continues to gaze ahead where she had been sitting in front of him previously. He doesn't have to speak for Cherise to know that he'd rather not see her go.

            After picking up her bag and turning her back, she just stands there a moment. She turns around again and walks back to stoop and kiss Bucky on the forehead lingeringly. He closes his eyes, and doesn't open them again until he hears the door close. Bob had followed Cherise to the door, whining. Tears spilled out of her eyes the entire time that she walked away, and she could hear Bob pawing at the door and crying from the other side, begging her to come back after she'd shut it. The dog is an empath, channeling Bucky to the core. At least he had loving company.

 

            After taking a hot bath for her backache, Cherise stares at the pregnancy test. Steve isn't home, so if she wanted to take it and find out, have her reaction, she could have done so. She closes the box and throws it back into her drawer, chickening out. She had eaten dinner alone, watched some TV, gotten to watching the DVD of hers and Steve's wedding. It had brought her to tears. Those tears were for unexplainable joy, and unexplainable pain. It's too hard to be in love with two people at the same time. Because no matter what you do, no matter who you choose, you're going to hurt somebody. She had finally noticed the pain hidden behind Bucky's smile as he stood by Steve at the altar, as he gave his speech as best man at dinner, adding that he loved Cherise like a sister when it was really more, as he danced with her before God and everybody. She had watched herself dance with just about all of Steve's male friends, but the way that Bucky moved just screamed heartbreak, and she hadn't noticed until that moment. Cherise turns in by a little past midnight, early for her on a Friday. She's just thankful that she doesn't have to wake up early.

 

            Steve had only sustained a punch to the face, one where he can feel a bruise forming, knowing it will be gone in a matter of hours. Natasha had sprained her ankle, and Steve continues to help her stand as he leads her to the infirmary. Sam is still standing unscathed as the three of them make their way into the building at one in the morning. Natasha winces and Steve pauses inside the door, Sam making it a few paces ahead of them before turning around to realize they're not right beside him. To Natasha's surprise, Steve decides to pick her up bridal style.

            "You go ahead home, Sam. I'm just going to take Natasha up to the infirmary."

            "You sure?"

            "It's been a rough night. I can take it from here."

Sam makes his way past them, Natasha muttering good night. She has not yet managed to look up at the Captain, as all the blood continues rushing to her face.

            "It's nothing, Steve. I just need to change and go home—"

            "Let me take you, okay?" she can hear a hint of worry in his voice as he makes his way to the elevator, not needing to put her down to press the button. She eyes the ring on his finger where the hand is scooped around her knees, and finally looks up at him. He's staring at the numbers on the wall as the lift descends.

            "Steve…your face," she says, unable to stop herself from cupping his cheek. He closes his eyes a long moment, and she knows that he's reveling in her touch.

            "It'll heal," he promises, before opening his eyes to stare at the floors counting down again. Natasha wouldn't dare to kiss him here—not with people watching. Everybody knows that the Captain is married. Then why had he not stayed away from her? Natasha is sure he loves his wife. He must have cared about _her_ too, as he'd gone out of his way to carry her, despite there being a lift. The music inside makes things even more awkward. Natasha steals a glance at the camera in the corner, almost glaring and wishing it wasn't there. She wants to kiss him.

            "Steve," she says again. He closes his eyes. He hasn't come to visit her in a while. She knows that something must be bothering him, but he just won't say.

            "I know that you love her…and I know I shouldn't have waited this long…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry…"

He walks out of the elevator with her, carrying her down the quiet hall.

            "Is there a nurse or doctor on call?" he asks out loud, making his way around. When there doesn't appear to be, Steve finds himself discontent that this is the case. He'd built this place from the ground up. This part of the building is meant to be open at all times. He passes a room where there are two doctors working on an agent who looks to be in worse condition than Natasha. He decides not to bother them and finds an empty room.

            "Steve, this has to stop. I can't be the reason your marriage fails," Natasha says. Her voice is somewhat weak, and the Captain can tell she's only trying not to break down. He doesn't respond as he places her atop a bed cautiously, as if she's more injured than he knows she is. In truth, he had not wanted to put her down from the moment that he picked her up. Natasha had debated telling the Captain about Bucky's feelings for Cherise. Especially after Barnes had approached her about Steve, she'd tried to stop feeling the way she feels, but it had become very clear to her that she couldn't stop feeling. At the same time, she knows how much the Captain loves his wife, and she wouldn't have wanted to see him hurt about his best friend being in love with her. Steve walks out of the room to leave her there in some confusion before returning with a first aid kit. He pulls her leg over the side of the bed, kneeling on the floor, before pausing and looking up at her suit.

            "You're going to have to take this off," he says calmly. Natasha stares down at him. He had sometimes wondered whether she wore anything underneath the suit, and his cheeks redden a moment before he looks away. Natasha keeps her eyes on Steve as she unzips the black suit slowly. Her bra is black and matches, pushing her breasts up in a way that the Captain can't continue to ignore when he looks at her again. He had tried to tell himself not to look, but is unable to take his eyes off her as Natasha sits up on her hand to pull the suit down her torso, then down her legs, the boots sliding off with it. Steve stands up to pull a gown out of a drawer. Natasha reaches out, almost as if to hug him, but he simply places her arms through the piece of fabric, reaching around her back to tie it closed. She can't take it anymore, and rests her head against his chest. Steve pauses in tying a moment just to feel her there.

            He then descends to the floor again, lightly cupping the back of her left heel. The ankle is swollen and Natasha winces a moment. He gazes up into her eyes apologetically before going into the kit for wrap and an instant heat pack. As he wraps her ankle, she winces again. He tries to be as quick as possible, hating the sound of Natasha enduring pain. He starts the pack and holds it against the swelling a moment.

            "How is Cherise?" Natasha asks. Steve's heart hastens. The bruise on his face aches, and he knows that it wouldn't have ended up there at all if he hadn't been distracted thinking about his son or daughter, the fact that Cherise seems to be hiding this from him.

            "She's pregnant…but that's not for everybody to know just yet."

When Steve meets Natasha's gaze again, he finds her eyes watery, but her lips smiling with a slight tremble. She knows that it's really the end now. They could go no further. She would never be a home-wrecker—especially not with a kid involved. She wants all of this for Steve, even if it's not with her. She reasons that Steve is upset because he had finally realized how much he wants to be with her, knowing that now it's far too late.

            "I hope your son looks just like you," she says so quietly that he almost doesn't hear it, "Because his father's really a looker." Natasha always smiles through her pain, or shows no sign of it, or anything. But Steve had begun to see a different side of her, one that he never knew really existed until now. He smiles back, but his heart tears in two.

            "I always thought I'd have a daughter," he admits. There's a moment of silence between them, during which time Natasha passes her hands through his hair repeatedly. She cups his cheek again, and despite the bruise, he leans into it.

            "Doctor," somebody calls, and Steve stands up straight as a nurse enters the room, a doctor following shortly after her. Steve takes a step back after placing the hot pack in Natasha's hands.

            "She sprained her ankle, jumping from a building, pretty high up," he explains, "I already wrapped it, but I think you'd better take an x-ray, just to be sure nothing's broken."

Natasha has never felt so cared for, and she hates to see Steve go, without even looking back.

 

            The Captain steps into the house, noting how cold it is. Cherise must have forgotten to turn the AC down before getting in bed. He has no doubt that she's cold, if she's even asleep by now. He places his shield quietly by the door and makes his way up the stairs, undressing as he goes. He can't stop thinking about Natasha, wondering what it would have been like if she had told him how she felt earlier on, before he'd met Cherise. He wonders whether Natasha would have said yes, had he asked her to marry him. But the closer he gets to his wife, the more he begins to think about his daughter, the one he hopes Cherise will finally tell him about this weekend. He's not sure how much longer he's willing to wait.           

            He turns on the lamp to find Cherise in bed. She has the covers pulled up to her shoulders now. She should have turned the AC down before getting in bed. He watches her shiver in her sleep, quietly sinking into bed in his boxers, pulling his arms down her side to try and warm her up. He tries not to wake her at the same time. Steve throws his clothes into the hamper and wraps a towel around his waist. He ventures back down the stairs to turn the air conditioner off. He showers and as he's brushing his teeth, he can't resist pulling Cherise's drawer open again. He stares at the pregnancy test that is still open, except this time, he can see the instructions sticking out halfway, as if Cherise had moved it. When he slips into bed behind her, he tucks her in both arms. Her skin is cold. She inhales deeply a moment, as if she might have woken up. Steve slows his movements before kissing her on the back of the head.

            "I hope that you know how much I love you…and that I'm sorry," he says, so quietly. The Captain knows that not even in her dreams will Cherise hear him. He had apologized for Natasha. He'd known that Cherise knew there must have been something going on. And yet, he just can't bring himself to tell her. He continues to decant those lies carefully, despite Cherise knowing that he _does_ work very late when it comes to a mission. Steve rests his head heavily upon the same pillow that Cherise's head occupies halfway, and he cries himself to sleep quietly.

 

            The Captain awakens to utmost beauty, the eyes fresh and new, hair tousled and in need of a brush. Cherise is sitting up in bed, smiling sleepily, rubbing his shoulder patiently. He grins up at her, before closing his eyes again a moment. She traces his lips.

            "I'm sorry I got in so late," he says, his voice groggy, "You shoulda turned the AC off before getting in bed. You were shivering," he adds. She laughs and sniffles. He looks up at her to find that she's crying. Steve begins to sit up.

            "What's wrong?" he asks. Cherise only smiles and cups his cheeks. She kisses him, and he doesn't close his eyes in the process, watching as the tears continue to drip out of her eyes.

            "Is something wrong?" he asks after a while, holding her back. She shakes her head.

            "No, Steve…I just love you, more than you know…last night, somehow, I started watching that DVD my dad made, of our wedding…" She can't continue to speak. Steve's heart begins to try and break free from the ribs. He presses his forehead to hers.

            "Is that what you wanted to tell me?" he asks quietly. She doesn't speak and only kisses him in response before resting her head against his chest. He holds her a while before finding it impossible to keep quiet.

            "Are we having a baby?" he asks carefully, almost as if he's afraid to. Cherise's eyes widen. She isn't so surprised he asked, after what Bucky had told her. She hadn't planned on keeping it a secret much longer—she couldn't. She can't let the Captain know that she already knew he had an inkling, otherwise she'd have to reveal that she'd spoken to Bucky.

            "Cher?" he asks, peeling her off his chest. She maintains her false shock, looking away from him, feeling guilty.

            "…Why would you think that?" she asks. His eyes are unavoidable when he cups her chin and brings her gaze to meet him. His succulent lips part as if to speak, but he's at a loss for words. She keeps silent, her eyes watering a bit.

            "Please don't be angry…but I saw that pregnancy test—by mistake…were you going to tell me?"

Bucky crosses her mind again and she can't help but pull away from Steve. She starts out of bed, crossing her arms.

            "Cherise." Steve pulls the quilt back and makes his way slowly to the edge of the bed. When she starts for the door, he beats her to a standing position, gripping her waist. She doesn't want to face him, can't stand to know whether it's even true. When she manages to look him in the face, she finds that he's smiling toothlessly. All she wants to do is cry.

            "Are you pregnant?" he asks. A lump forms in her throat, rendering her speechless.

            "It really was an accident. I didn't mean to—I would never go through your things without asking, but it's been two weeks and I was hoping you'd tell me on your own," he adds. She pulls away from him, pacing back and forth, a hand over her mouth, trying not to have a panic attack.

            "…You're mad at me," he says, sighing.

            "I'm not," she responds curtly, "I never took the damn test, okay? So I don't even know," she says, pausing and closing her eyes.

            "Then let's take it, together."

She looks at him making his way towards her cautiously, all this hope in his eyes. Regardless of what happens, she knows that it will break the Captain's heart when she tells him that she doesn't want to do this now. Not while she's in love with Bucky.

 

            Steve stands outside the bathroom pacing anxiously. When Cherise finally comes out, he turns on his heels to meet her. She stares at the test with relief, but doesn't let it show on her face.

            "Cherise," he says hopefully. She shows it to him.

            "It's negative, Steve."

She watches the light leave his eyes and her heart sinks, but she can't help feeling relieved that Bucky isn't a factor anymore. Steve turns on the light in the hallway, despite the sun being out enough to see.

            "Are you sure?" he asks.

            "Yep. I read the directions…You can see them, if you want."

Steve sighs. He's genuinely a bit disappointed. Cherise walks up behind him and wraps her arms around him. He wishes then that he hadn't said anything to Natasha. He reasons that was just his guilt trying to get him to keep his distance from her.

            "It's okay," he says at last, "We can start trying for real now." He turns around to hug her tightly.

            "…Steve."

He only holds onto her.

            "Steve?" She pauses in rubbing his back.

            "Were you planning on telling me, though?" he asks, pulling back enough to look down at her, "If you _had_ been?" Suddenly, she feels as if he doesn't trust her. And maybe he shouldn't.

            "Reese," he says when she doesn't answer.

            "Honestly, Steve, I'm relieved," she breathes. He looks lost when she tries to read his face.

            "I'm…I'm just not sure the timing was right—that's all." She rubs his chest comfortingly, but he still looks a bit lost.

            "Why?" he asks.

            "I don't know. I'm just not ready for that. And you're gone so frequently that…sometimes I feel really lonely."

            "Is that what you've been so upset about these past couple of months? You know that I would take care of you, right?"

            "You do. I know you do. But you're just not… _here_. Steve, you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

            "…This is why you've been so angry with me," he says, more so to himself than to her. Cherise sighs.

            "I'm not angry," she says. But perhaps she has been.

            "You don't have to lie to me," he says, "I think I've known it for a while."

            "I'm not—"

            "You _are_. I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into when we decided to be together. Especially when I asked you to marry me."

The conversation takes on a tenseness that Cherise doesn't like. She'd felt relieved and happy seconds ago, and now the feeling dissipates.

            "It scared me when you came home shot like that…It scares me when you walk through the door hurt. Can you blame me?"

Steve looks away for a moment before walking into the bathroom to discard the negative pregnancy test. Cherise follows him, wanting him to hear her.

            "What if something _happens_ to you? You know that it's possible, Steve…please, just be honest with me. Would you really want me to raise our child _alone_?"

            "That's _not_ going to happen," he says and she can tell that he's making an effort to remain calm, "I promise you, it's not going to be like that. I won't let it." He clutches her again.

            "This is what _scares_ me about you, Steve," she admits, "You don't seem to realize how fragile we _all_ are."

            "You always forget that I'm not just any man."

            "But you're still a _human being,_ Steve."

            "What is it that's _really_ upsetting you? You seemed…happy that you weren't pregnant, almost like it would have disappointed you if you were."

She has no words for him at this point. She only pulls back and stands in the doorway, looking up at him.

            " _What_ am I doing wrong?" he asks, begging for an answer.

            " _Nothing_ —"

            "No— _tell_ me."

            "I feel…alone. I feel _alone,_ Steve. I know that we've discussed this before, and I _know_ what your work means to you—you think my career is meaningless to me? But what you do, it's _dangerous_. Most nights, I go to bed wondering whether or not I'm ever going to _see_ you again. I don't understand how you could possibly even _think_ that I would want to start a family right now—"

            "So do you want me to quit?" he asks. His voice had risen to match hers, as she'd begun to get impatient.

            "Tell me what it is that you want," Steve demands.

            "I don't want to have kids while you're out there trying to get yourself killed," she says, unable to hold back.

            "I keep telling you that that's not going to happen, but it's like you have _no_ faith in me," he retorts, and she finally sees that she'd wounded him, albeit unintentionally. She sighs, shaking her head.

            "I'm a soldier, Cherise. That is who I _am_ , and it's a part of me that I can't throw away just because you get scared. You think you know fear? I'm a _century_ old. You have no idea what I've been through, the things I have survived, the things I've _seen_ —not in the past and not now. Being a soldier is _important_ to me. I get it that you can't understand what it means to me, why I do what I do—"

            " _Steve_ —" she interrupts, no longer wanting to fight.

            "You _knew_ what you were getting yourself into when I asked you to _marry_ me!"

Cherise walks away, hearing the Captain sigh regretfully as she makes it back to their room. She just changes her clothes and walks down the stairs to grab her bag. Steve follows her, and she pulls her wrist out of his grip before marching down the front steps and to her car. He stands on the porch with a disgruntled expression and watches her drive off. She drives to his old apartment, as if she's on autopilot. When she gets there, she's still fuming, and she doesn't even recognize Bucky in the stairwell coming down until he grabs her shoulders. He can already see how upset she is.

            When she plops down on the couch to tell him why she's upset, she finds that her hands are shaking. She's crying a bit, but angry at the same time. As far as she's concerned, Steve thinks he's unstoppable. She thinks he's reckless. Bucky seems to understand her. He looks as sad as she feels, the more that she goes on about it.

            "It's almost like he doesn't _care_ that he could _die_ , and he still wants kids? …I'm just glad I wasn't pregnant," she admits, "I don't know what I would have done if…"

Bucky grips her hand tighter.

            "Why couldn't it have been you?" she whispers. His heart is overwhelming him. He pulls her into both arms and the kissing ensues. He'd predicted this from the moment she walked through the door. When it opens again, it takes them both by complete surprise. Cherise turns her head at the same time that Bucky opens his eyes. She stands up straight, as if she'd been sitting on hot coal when she sees Steve standing in the doorway, his eyes wide as if they can't believe what they're seeing. She takes a step towards him as Bucky stands up.

            "…Steve."

Bucky had circled around the other side of the couch. Steve only stares at Cherise before staring at Bucky. He looks between the two of them again, and his expression transforms into one of utter wrath.

            "Steve," Bucky starts, taking another cautious step towards him. Steve steps through the door quickly and throws his fist into Bucky's face. Cherise shouts, although she isn't surprised by her husband's reaction. Bucky finds himself smashed up against the wall as Steve attacks him.

            "Steve, stop!" She jumps up behind him and begins pulling on his shoulders desperately, only to feel herself be shoved back, hard enough that she falls to the floor.

            "Don't you touch her!" Bucky shouts, having finally shoved Steve back from strangling him. The Captain throws another punch, which Bucky dodges. The wall cracks where Steve's fist lands.

            "You're gonna _kill_ him!" she cries from the floor. Bucky's electric gaze flashes towards her, but when he tries to go and help her up, the Captain kicks him back, creating a decent sized hole in the wall on impact. Bucky finally throws a punch Steve's way, and this only seems to stall the Captain for a half second before he throws another one, getting Bucky across the cheek. Bucky yells and hits him back, until Cherise is just screaming at them both from the floor. She gets up and Bucky intercepts her when she tries to approach Steve again. He blocks another of Steve's punches. Cherise knows that Steve hadn't meant to hurt her, but he wasn't going to let her stop him from getting to Bucky. She throws herself between the two and Steve takes a step back, fist already pulled back in the air and ready to go, fuming.

            "Bucky— _don't_ ," she begs. His nose is bleeding. He stares over her at Steve. She places her hands on his heaving chest.

            "Do you know what she said to me, Steve?!" Bucky asks, loud enough that Cherise jumps for an instant, "…'I just don't want him to _die_!' But you _still_ run around on your missions every week and leave her home to worry that you _will_! My god, Steve, she's your fucking _wife_."

            "That's right— _my wife_! How could you _do_ this to me, James— _you_ —of all people?"

            " _Don't_ pretend that you've been _there_ for her like you should be," Bucky says angrily, narrowing his eyes, "You've been _cheating_ on her with Romanoff!"

Cherise whips around to stare at Steve with widened eyes. He had closed his, and she knows from the look on his face that Bucky had never lied.

            "…You…you are not my friend," Steve says with finality, pointing at Bucky, "I don't even…I don't even _know_ who you are." Cherise has never seen this sort of anger in the Captain before. He starts for the door. He doesn't spare her a last glance before pulling it closed so hard, it nearly comes off the hinges. Bucky looks hurt in a way that is indescribable as he stares at the door. His voice is so soft that Cherise almost doesn't hear it.

            "Let him go. He's in no state to be talking to anybody."

And she knows with a feeling of utter agony and fear that this isn't just Bucky looking out for her, it's the truth.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mention of blood. I think this is the longest story I've ever written. I don't think I've ever hit a hundred pages or above before. Wonder what was different for me about this than for all the others. I found this cool text to speech thing online while editing (I like to edit from more than one sense, as it sometimes help to catch things that I might miss, or that Word misses. I'm starting to hate that processor) called Yak it To Me. It was an English accent named Audrey.

            Steve knows that if he hadn't left when he did, he would have murdered his best friend. He can't even see, he's so upset. He pulls over to the side of the road, not more than a few blocks away from his old apartment. He had gone to seek Bucky's advice after fighting with his wife, yet again, and instead found him kissing her. He pictures Bucky's metallic hand resting in the small of Cherise's back where they were sitting on the couch, and pushes the car door open to retch, clutching his stomach. Not more than two hours ago, he'd thought Cherise was pregnant. He'd thought he would finally be able to force himself to stop messing with these feelings for Natasha. He'd thought that becoming a father would force him to keep faithful. Steve wonders how the hell he hadn't seen this coming. He'd barely spent time with Cherise during weekdays. They probably had never physically spent so much time together as they had on their honeymoon. He's amazed that she stayed on for this long.

            Steve pulls his fist back through the driver's side window. The pane is completely gone now, and it only hurts him a moment, at which point he screams out loud at the top of his lungs, scaring a passerby so badly that he honks his horn and yells at Steve to get off the road. As droplets of blood appear in his knuckles, Steve realizes that totaling his car isn't going to change the fact that he'd been a terrible husband. He decides that this is God's way of punishing him. She had been watching all this time, and he knows it. He should _never_ have gone to see Natasha to begin with…but he knows how he feels about her. It would have only been a matter of time before he was unable to stay away. But it doesn't excuse the way he would always dismiss Cherise's fear for him running off into danger every week. He should never have yelled at her for that. He knows he should have realized that she just loved him.

            The Captain slams a fist down on the hood of his car, causing a dent that makes it pop open. He's too angry to care at this point. He yells again, paces, shoving his hands through his hair, kicks the wheel, the alarm sounds. He sinks to the asphalt and stares into space, twisting the gold band absently about his ring finger. Shortly, he begins to weep. He cannot go home without Cherise. He cannot go home without _thinking_ about  her, and he cannot bring himself to go back to that apartment to get her. Despite how betrayed he feels, he still cares for Cherise—even Bucky. He doesn't want to do more damage than he already has. There is only one place left to turn…

 

            Bucky groans, looking down his nose in the mirror. After Steve left, he had walked over to Cherise, who had sunk to the floor to cry. But she kept pushing him away and wouldn't uncover her eyes. He tilts his head back and the blood leaks out quietly, passing over his lips like rouge. It's not like he's never been hurt to this extent before. At times, he'd been hurt even _worse_. Steve had broken his arm before, while they were fighting, trying to help him remember who he was. As Bucky imagines that pain, his broken nose feels like nothing. His metallic fingers never tremble as he slowly brings them to the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes tightly for a handful of seconds before setting it, holding back a scream; he doesn't want to frighten Cherise.

            Reeling in the pain, Bucky's breath comes out in sharp drags through his mouth. He can still smell the blood. It isn't a scent or a taste that he isn't used to, but he likes it no less as he reaches with his flesh hand, which is shaking now, into the small closet for a clean towel. He leans against the wall, applying pressure to his nose, noticing that his back and chest ache where Steve had made him crash into the wall after kicking him. He wonders for a moment whether a rib is actually broken, and then decides that it doesn't hurt enough to be the case. This is something he and Steve share, pain. They heal quickly, but it doesn't mean that the pain isn't there. He sighs, taking a few deep breaths. He can't physically hear Cherise crying anymore, but Bob has gotten loud, howling from inside the bedroom, scratching at the door. Bucky had put him in there when Cherise walked through the door upset, and upon hearing the commotion between him and Steve, the dog had only gotten louder, begging to get out.

            Bucky walks out of the bathroom to find that Cherise is still sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her, eyes closed and wet. He pauses to look at her a moment, and realizes that he's _almost_ never seen someone look so broken. He'd seen himself much like this before, and this causes him to look away out of sheer guilt that he is the sole reason she's there like that. He _never_ should have given into his feelings for Cherise. The very moment that he felt them, he knew it meant betraying Steve, but he had never realized how much it would actually hurt _her_ in the process.

            "Calm down, boy," Bucky calls, opening the bedroom door. Bob immediately begins circling his feet, trying to see what's going on. He then follows Bucky right back to Cherise. Bucky reaches out and grips the dog's collar with his metal hand, causing a sudden jerk that hurts the canine unintentionally. Bob whines and immediately lies down submissively.

            "Let her be, okay? I'm sorry," he says, kneeling to rub the lab's back apologetically. After another moment spent looking over at Cherise, Bucky decides that he can't take it anymore. He approaches her, kneels at her side.

            "…Cherry?"

She exhales and shrinks simultaneously. She begins to cry again.

            "…I'm _so_ sorry," he says, holding back his own tears, "You _shouldn't_ have come here—why did you come here?" he asks, more angrily than he'd intended to. He doesn't want for Steve to never speak to him again. Cherise begins to stand up. Bucky follows her as she starts for the door. When he places a hand on her shoulder, she ducks from under it, turns around to shove him, and only succeeds in doing so half-heartedly.

            "It's _my_ fault. You wanna blame somebody—blame me," he begs. Cherise keeps her eyes closed, despite their watering. Bucky's chest is invitingly warm beneath her fingers, and she finds it hard to remove her hands.

            "…I need to find him—"

            "No—"

            "I have to _fix_ this—"

            "No. You need to let him be," Bucky says gently, "Alright?"

            "I messed up," Cherise chokes. Bucky merely pulls her into his arms and leads her back to the couch. She tries to turn around several times, and he keeps leading her back, until he decides to just pick her up. Bucky carries her to the couch where she cries into his neck quietly. Several moments pass where Bucky wonders what would have happened if Steve hadn't shown up. He figures that Steve didn't intend to find them together. No, he'd have been coming to confide in Bucky about his fight with Cherise. It seems to Bucky that this was almost _always_ the case, for as long as he'd known the two as a couple. He can see it, feel it in Cherise's sobs, feel it in his swollen nose, how much the pair love each other. But they clearly aren't right for each other. Bucky wonders if he had been in the wrong to approach Natasha about Steve. If anything, _they_ knew each other and understood each other in a way that Cherise simply couldn't have done genuinely had she tried. Natasha knew the pain, the lies, the brainwashing, the constant battling…if anything, she's _perfect_ for Steve. Bucky figures that he has known so all along. The only thing that had stopped him from admitting it was his fear of breaking Steve's heart and losing his trust. He knows he has already done both, and it begins to feel worth it as Cherise stops crying to clutch Bucky's bionic hand, holding it as if she never wants to let go.

 

            After sitting in silence for a long time, Cherise speaks again. She tells him that she wants to go home. Both of them doubt that Steve is there, but Cherise can't help wanting to try to talk to him, figure things out.

            "I'll come with you," Bucky states, standing up, "I'm not about to let you go see him while he's angry like that." He speaks without hesitation, and Cherise looks at him like he's a stranger. Bucky despises this.

            "…Steve would never hurt me—"

            "He pushed you," Bucky interrupts. She looks away a moment, unsure of her response.

            "…It all happened so fast. He didn't do it to hurt me."

It's Bucky's turn to look away, and he feels guilty all over again. He _knows_ Steve. How could he have thought that the man was capable of that? Cherise is love itself, to the best of Bucky's knowledge, something he knows Steve wouldn't have had the heart to harm in any way, shape, or form. He sighs.

            "I'm sorry," he says. She closes her eyes again.

            "…It's okay."

            "Maybe it's too soon of me to say, and maybe you won't believe it, and I don't care," Bucky starts, swallowing a lump in his throat before continuing. Cherise gives him her undivided attention, "But…I love you. And you have no idea how sorry I am." His voice falters into a whisper. Cherise closes her eyes again, the right hand leaping to her chest. She bites her lip and Bucky knows this look. He knows that she feels what he feels this time. He also knows how much she's hurting over Steve, so he keeps his distance.

            "You can come if you want. But I can't promise that I won't just keep crying," she says quietly before turning on her heels and starting for the door. Bucky rushes to grab his keys and cell phone, give Bob another pat on the back, before following Cherise out the door.

 

            She just keeps taking deep breaths as she walks up the front steps of hers and Steve's home. It doesn't really feel like home anymore after betraying Steve. She can't see him laughing as they cuddle on the couch, kissing her from behind while she washes the dishes, throwing her over his shoulder and rushing up the stairs, without having to pause and feel sick with herself. She hadn't heard him, but she can tell that Bucky is right behind her. She keeps her hand on the doorknob long enough that he finally speaks.

            "If you don't want to—"

And she pushes the door open at last. She doesn't call out for Steve. She hadn't seen his car in the driveway, despite the motorcycle still being there. She knows that he has gone to Natasha. This thought makes her angry. She starts up the stairs to their room, Bucky like her shadow the entire time. She can't believe she just feels secure that he's that close; at one time, it would have put her into fight or flight for him to be that close to her. Now, it still causes her heart to beat, but not out of fear. She walks into the bedroom and turns the light on. Nothing looks to have changed. It doesn't look like Steve has taken any of his clothes, either. As she cups the sleeve of one of his button down shirts, she knows that Bucky is standing in the doorway watching her.

            "So if you knew he was fucking around this whole time—"

            "He wasn’t exactly fucking—"

            " _Why_ didn't you tell me?" she asks. Part of her is angry with him. The moment she had intercepted Steve from throwing another punch and Bucky revealed this affair, she'd spun around to realize it was never a lie. Bucky only sighs.

            "Why?" she demands, waiting.

            "He's my best friend. I wasn't supposed to want you in the _first_ place…I wanted your marriage to work as much as you did…and who says it's over, anyway?"

Cherise detects the hint of disappointment in Bucky's voice. She hears him take a step closer.

            "I _know_ it's over. He'll never forgive us…How long did you know?" she asks, her voice shaking with a calmness that is only there out of a desperate desire to stop breaking down.

            "…I didn't—"

            "James, _tell me_. Steve _didn't_. I deserve to know."

            "Okay…okay, I'll tell you everything that he told me."

His voice sounds closer. Cherise closes her eyes, waiting to feel him make contact. He doesn't. His voice only grows closer, until she feels it right at the back of her head.

            "He told me, a little bit before your wedding, that he kissed someone else. Steve told me that he did that early on in your relationship. He said it happened after…after you slept together." Cherise crosses her arms, suddenly feeling uncomfortable on the subject with Bucky.

            "He—he regretted it. I could see how much he regretted it. He never even told me who it was, but I have a strong feeling that it's _always_ been Natasha."

Cherise sighs.

            "He loves you, regardless of what you believe, whether you believe what I'm saying or not, Cherise. Why do you think he reacted the way he did when he saw us kissing?"

She's silent, trembling with him standing that close and still not touching her. That sweet, gentle voice is touching her, and Cherise finds it tantalizing in a way that is completely inappropriate, considering how honestly upset she is about Steve.

            "He never mentioned Natasha—all he said was that he kissed someone, that it was a heat of the moment thing. And he swore he never slept with her. He never said it to me, but I just _know_ that he was with her that time you couldn't find him, the day after Peggy's funeral. He didn't have to tell me because I went and asked Romanoff herself. She didn't deny it. If you don't believe me, I'm sure he'll tell you himself if you ask, now that the dirty laundry's aired…I _never_ lied to you. Why would I want to?"

Cherise feels a tear roll down her cheek, but not out of sadness. It's a strange sort of happy she hasn't felt since waking up beside Steve earlier that day. She feels it for Bucky.

            "…I believe you," she says. At last, Bucky wraps his arms around her. Cherise's face makes contact with Steve's shirts, many of which she had ironed herself. She opens her mouth to stop breathing through her nose; she doesn’t want to smell Steve while Bucky is touching her.

            "I may be old, and I may not remember everything about how I was, but I _know_ that I've never felt this way before. Not about anyone."

Cherise believes this, too. It makes her cry to hear him talk to her like this, the same way it had made her cry for Steve to sing to her, look at her like she was his raison d'être.

            "I hurt him," she breathes, "And I really wish that I didn't."

            "…I know. I know because I did it, too. You're not alone, doll." Bucky simply holds her, until she pulls at his arms and starts out of the closet. She stares at the empty pregnancy test box on the quilt. She and Steve had left it there earlier that day. She stops dead in her tracks to stare at it, feeling an indescribable pain in her chest.

            "Cherise?" Bucky says. She barely hears him. She steps towards the bed, kneels in it, letting the sandals drop off her feet as she delves further, and stares at the box, crying afresh. She watches Bucky's silvery arm snake around her from behind, the flesh one following, the mattress caving in behind her where he sits. He doesn't say a word, and he doesn't have to in order to understand her pain. Despite how relieved she had been that the test was negative, she always knew how much Steve wanted kids. She had wanted to make him happy. She thinks what a horrible person she is, and is relieved that Bucky clearly isn't going to abandon her. Even after she'd been so uncertain with him, pushed him away, he never left her side. She feels his chin rest atop her head and turns around at last to face him, pressing into his chest.

            He smells different than Steve, spicier in a way. Her eyes wiped thoroughly on his shirt, Cherise looks up to him, cupping his cheek, that beautiful jaw. His eyes are wet, too. It becomes clear to Cherise that he's just as hurt as she is, emotionally. There is a scab that has formed on his lip, and his nose doesn't appear to be as swollen as it had been back at the apartment. He really is a beautiful man. He and Steve had that in common, too. Bucky can't take it anymore, turning his lips into her palm to kiss it. She watches his eyes close euphorically. His lips aren't as full as Steve's, but still satisfying as they travel down her wrist, a hot exhale escaping his nose and tickling her skin. Cherise watches him, slowly turning to putty in his hands. She pushes her other hand through his chestnut locks, and his eyes open, as if he's surprised she had touched him at all.

            They stare for an awkward moment, before Bucky goes for it. His kiss is just as electric as his gaze had been. He needn't have kissed her to get this reaction. Gradually, Cherise feels herself moving down, down, down. The weight of Bucky on top of her is comforting. He's suffocating her with kisses that take her breath away pleasantly. She hears this whirring noise, almost like the sound of a car engine purring. As she passes a hand down Bucky's metal shoulder, the whirring intensifies. She realizes with an odd sense of amusement that it's his arm making this noise. The sound of the box dropping on the hardwood floor is like a gong in Cherise's ears. Her eyes pop open and she pushes up on Bucky's abdomen.

            "I can't. Not here," she breathes, catching her breath. He sits on both knees, having feared that he'd simply crushed her, until she told him that she could go no further. Bucky eyes his surroundings, having forgotten that they're sitting in the same bed where Steve had touched her just like that thousands of times before, and he doesn't blame her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself for this story now. Haha. It pained me to write the last few chapters and part of this one. But it'll get better!

            Cherise spends ample time trembling, staring across the bed at Bucky. He stares right back at her, except he's not trembling. Instead he looks more desperate than anything, like he's trying to restrain himself. The lamp's soft light glares off his shiny hand, the fist clenched. He's big, like Steve, but somehow just as stealth and gentle. His head is tilted to the side, and for a moment, he reminds her of Bob, and it causes the slightest of smiles to tug at the corners of her lips. Her lips still taste like Bucky. It's unfamiliar, but not unwanted. She sucks the lower labrum into her mouth, reminiscing his touch. He hadn't moved since she spoke. Cherise had put more distance between herself and the soldier on the king size bed, palpitations causing her to press her hands to her chest. She wonders how the hell it's possible to be falling in love with Bucky so hard and so fast. She knows that she wouldn't have been able to stop things from progressing if that pregnancy test box hadn't fallen on the floor and snapped her out of it.

            She wants Bucky, _badly_. Her body tells her so, but there's still a ring on her finger, and she can't bring herself far enough out of her upset to be able to deal with Bucky touching her like that.

            "…You don't have to pull away from me anymore," he finally says, shifting to sit on his rear, two pale feet poking out from under a pair of dark blue jeans. His metal arm wraps around his shins, while the flesh one extends where his hand rests atop the quilt. The bicep bulges a second and she tears her eyes away.

            "I just have to talk to him," she admits quietly.

            "I get it," he says, and she has a feeling that he really _does_. Cherise pulls her hair free of the pony tail it was in. She can't stop the heat from rushing to her face as she messes with it. She realizes that she must have looked a really hot mess showing up at Bucky's when she did earlier. She'd only washed her face and brushed her teeth before having another explosion with Steve. She realizes that she's fussing with herself for nothing; Bucky hasn't stopped looking at her like he cannot believe she's real. He looks at her like she's magic. The pain for Steve ebbs somewhat as she sits there, returning Bucky's stare.

            "I'm sorry," he says again.

            "What for?"

            "…All of this," he says, looking around the room a moment before focusing on her, shrugging.

            "…I don't think you know how hard I tried not to think about you…how many times I wished it _wasn't_ you. I even went to _church_ after…" he looks away from her a moment, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the headboard. She watches his Adam's apple drop when he swallows. This memory causes a heat to swell between Cherise's thighs.

            "Steve was really the only person I had when I came back…when I saw how happy you made him, I knew I needed someone like that. He even tried to set me up, but…" Bucky shrugs again, and as his eyes scan her frame, she feels as if he's seeing her naked.

            "You're quiet when you're sad," he says after another moment. Cherise smiles in a tiny way, looking down. She realizes then that she's gripping the quilt, butterflies swarming her stomach. She hasn't felt this way since her first intimate encounter with Steve. At least Bucky realizes that she's still upset. His calm starts putting her at ease. Cherise sighs, gazing out the window. It's dark now. She wonders how so much time has gone by.

            "The least I can do is make you dinner," she says, starting out of the bed. Bucky moves to follow her, but pauses, wondering whether she still wants him to keep his distance. He listens to her walk down the stairs, wondering how she could have cared at all whether he was hungry when they'd both turned Steve's world inside out. He struggles with his thoughts. _Should he leave? Should he stay? What if Steve comes back and sees him there? Cherise doesn't need to go through more pain, more loneliness. Steve is always leaving her alone for too long…_ He starts down the stairs to find Cherise in the kitchen, making sandwiches. There's this blank look on her face, as if there's nothing left for her to care about. It makes Bucky sad as he sits at the table watching her. She had made herself a sandwich, too, and even sits at the other end of the table to eat with him. But she doesn’t even take a bite.

 

            With Natasha's legs straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around him, Steve hasn't felt this comfortable in a while. He finally stops crying, having explained what had happened. He'd simply sat on Natasha's couch, and she had comforted him, like she did before when he came to her after Peggy's funeral. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Natasha stands to leave the room for a moment. She returns with a few paper towels before sitting beside him.

            "You don't have to talk about it anymore, if you don't want to," she says carefully. Steve sighs, wiping his nose.

            "…I'm just…I'm more hurt than anything that it had to be _Bucky_. He's the _one_ man in this world that I could always count on. I still can't believe that it happened. It was strange…when I hit him the first few times, it's almost like he _let_ me…like he wanted me to. Like he thought he deserved it."

            "…Steve, he…he told me…that night when we left together—when I went to his apartment for my gun…"

The Captain's eyes turn to the redhead. He waits.

            "He told you what?" he asks. Natasha knows she can't keep secrets any longer.

            "He admitted to—by accident—it just slipped—"

            "He admitted to _what_?" Steve asks, growing impatient. Natasha keeps herself calm, knowing that Steve is still angry. She sighs. He grips her wrist.

            " _Tell me_. I deserve to know."

            "He admitted to having feelings for Cherise. Now, before you go and kill him, I know for a fact that he didn't _mean_ for—"

Steve grumbles angrily, pulling out from under Natasha's hand where she had rested it on his shoulder. She gasps at his sudden movement when he stands up off the couch to pull his hands through his hair and over his face. She watches him unsurely.

            "Steve, I know her. She couldn't have been cheating on you, okay? James didn't _want_ to hurt you. He came and told me to stay away from you, after you disappeared on her and spent the night here…believe it or not, James wants your marriage to work as much as _you_ do," Natasha reassures. Steve pauses in pacing to look at her. He can tell that she isn't lying. He has reached a point where he can tell when Natasha is actually lying, and he knows in this moment that she's being truthful.

            "But…still," he says, replaying each of his and Cherise's fights over and over again in his mind. He feels a sense of guilt. She had always been the one to flee, crying. Perhaps he drove her _right_ into Bucky's arms. Natasha ponders telling about her night with Bucky, the night of Steve's and Cherise's wedding. But she decides against it, knowing that it will only make Steve angrier, aside from the fact that that particular night meant just as little to Bucky as it had meant to her.

            "…I know you're angry, Steve, and I'm not unhappy that you're here…but do you think you have the right to be as angry with her as you are? You've been coming to me, telling me—"

            "I know," he interrupts.

            "I've just never felt more betrayed."

            "…Well, you need to go home and talk to her. You've got to stick this out…" Natasha begins, her eyes watering, "For the baby. She—or he…they're going to need their father." Steve registers Natasha's false smile. The Captain feels weak in the knees. He sighs again.

            "Actually, Cherise isn't pregnant. I thought she was because…it's a long story…she's not."

            "…But you still love her," Natasha adds, wiping her eye. Steve finally notices the small cast-like wrap around Natasha's foot. He steps towards her, moving the coffee table out of the way. He kneels in front of her and wraps his hands around her calf, observing the limb.

            "Answer me," she whispers.

            "…Yes…yes, I do. And I'm confused because I love you, too."

Natasha feels a sense of relief. The Captain looks up at her with tearful eyes, but he's not frowning. The look is more full of the words that had danced off his tongue. When they kiss, he doesn't feel as much pain, and she can't bring herself to pull back.

 

            Cherise had excused herself shortly after sitting at the table with Bucky. He sits there long enough to realize that she's not coming back, and makes his way up to find her. He breezes from room to room before realizing she's right where they left off. He finds her lying curled up in hers and Steve's bed, crying quietly. He makes his way there and sits behind her. When he runs a hand down her arm, she sits up and pulls away.

            "Bucky, I can't," she breathes. He thinks that he probably should have left her alone, and hopes that she knows he only desires to comfort her. It hurts him to see her like this, especially knowing that it's because of him. He keeps trying to hug her.

            "I _can't_ _—_ I can't," she says. He finally stops.

            "Okay. I'll leave if you want me to," he says. She shakes her head vehemently, to his surprise.

            "I don't…I just can't be with you in _here_ ," she admits, dusting the quilt beneath her fingers.

            "I won't touch you, I swear," he promises, pulling both hands back and raising them into the air as if to surrender. She stands up, staring at the bed. Bucky steps out of it and she walks around it to make her way out to the corridor. They stand there hugging before migrating back downstairs to the den, where Cherise only sleeps with him on the couch.

 

            Her head is hot on Bucky's chest when he awakens. For a moment, he thinks that he's dreaming before he tries to sit up, and her body begins to slide down him. He pauses and leans back to let her sleep. Shortly, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway meets his ears. He knows that it's probably Steve.

            "Cherise…wake up," he says gently, rubbing her back until she comes to. The sound of the door beginning to open causes him to want to get her off him, simply for the sake of not being caught by Steve this way. Bucky knows how much it must have hurt him. Cherise rushes up, stumbling a moment.

            "Steve? Steve," she calls, making her way down the hall. Bucky sighs before getting up to follow her. In the doorway stands the Captain. A flash of red catches Bucky's eye and he sees Natasha standing out on the porch behind Steve. _His_ eyes are still for Cherise. He's looking at her in that same loving way, before he catches sight of Bucky, and glares. Natasha merely stands there, making eye contact with Bucky past Steve.

            "I think we should talk," Steve starts, taking a few more steps inside, "But I want him to leave first," he says, not looking at Bucky anymore and pointing out the door behind himself.

            "…Why'd you bring her?" Cherise asks, standing on her tiptoes to look at Natasha. The women exchange glances. They appear blank, but Bucky knows that Cherise is upset about the redhead; they're supposed to be friends.

            "… _We need to talk_ —just _you_ and _me_ ," Steve says, staring down at Cherise harder, with more impatience now than love.

            "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of James," Cherise says, crossing her arms, "And I'm _sure_ you can say whatever you need to say in front of her, too, since she already knows everything. I know you were with her that day—when you disappeared after Peggy's funeral—"

            "I'm not saying anything until he's gone," Steve says, cutting Cherise off, his voice having grown a bit louder. They're clearly angry with each other. Both Bucky and Natasha begin to feel anxious.

            " _No_ , he doesn’t have to go anywhere. At least he never runs away from me—"

            "That's _enough_ ," Steve demands, taking another step towards Cherise. Bucky feels his blood rush cold a moment, and he takes a wide step towards Steve, whose eyes catch him immediately. Natasha rushes inside and wraps both hands around Steve's arm, whispering his name with wide eyes. Cherise realizes that she doesn't want to see anyone else get hurt, either.

            "Get out of my house, you son of a bitch," Steve says coldly to Bucky, looking him right in the eyes.

            "It's _my_ house, too. He doesn't have to do a goddamn thing," Cherise snaps venomously. Natasha stands in front of Steve, knowing that he's not going to try and hit Bucky over her head. Bucky doesn't say anything, he only stares back at Steve with a mix of resentment and regret.

            "Steve—you need to _calm_ down. You're going to do something you'll regret," Natasha says. She turns to look at Cherise a moment. Cherise realizes that this is why she had come. Perhaps Natasha too doesn't want to see Bucky and Steve's friendship fall apart.

            "You hear that, Steve? You'll do something you'll regret. But haven't you already?" Cherise asks, her voice breaking a moment. He looks down at her sadly for a few seconds before side stepping Natasha and reaching for Cherise's arm. She swats his hand away and backs up until she's in the doorway of the sun room.

            "Tell me, were you fucking him as soon as I had my back turned?" Steve asks.

Bucky can no longer take it, moving Natasha out of his way and walking towards the Captain.

            "Don't talk to her like that," he snaps.

            " _Excuse you_ —is this _your_ wife? Is this who you think you're talking to?" Steve asks, having turned full on to face Bucky.

            "Steve, _don't._ " Bucky sees Cherise's hands, so small in comparison, reaching around both of the Captain's arms from behind. He finds it cute that she thinks she could try to stop Steve from hitting him again if he really wanted to. Bucky doesn't shrink an iota as Steve glares at him. But inside, this is really killing him. It's killing him to see Steve look at him with such contempt. Natasha walks out the front door and down the steps, until she's out of sight, but Bucky knows she's not really going anywhere. Cherise cries audibly and Steve takes a deep breath before turning around.

            " _You did this to me, too, Steve_ ," she says desperately. Bucky can only see that she had covered both eyes with her hands before Steve pulls the sliding doors shut and they are no longer visible. He listens for a moment, daring Steve to lay a hand on her. He would have only had to push on the closed doors to break through them. Bucky hears Cherise crying, and Steve sighing. He can picture the regret on the Captain's face.

            "I'm sorry," Steve admits. He apologizes again, his voice wavering. Bucky's heart breaks further. He finds himself hoping that they won't be able to work through this one. Cherise doesn't deserve to be alone all the time, the way Steve had been constantly leaving her. It's quiet for a moment and Bucky wonders what is transpiring on the other side. Perhaps they're hugging. Bucky rolls his eyes closed before walking away. Natasha is lying on the green lawn, her red hair fanned out beneath her head in the sun. He closes the front door, leaving it open just a crack, and stands on the porch, observing this odd sight, and hopes for a moment that she will burn there. If she'd just kept away from Steve…but then Cherise wouldn't have started getting so close to him again. He reasons that he shouldn't hate Natasha the way he does; he's been doing the same shit as her. Bucky sits on the porch with a sigh.

            A solid hour goes by, during which time, he hears a muffled sort of yell from inside the house, every other one coming from Steve. They're fighting. He tries not to listen. And then Steve begins to emerge from the house. Bucky stands up. The Captain doesn't even look at him as he makes his way towards the street with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Natasha had sat in the grass, staring at the house, eying Bucky every now and again. She stands up when Steve makes his way towards her. He looks as if he's been crying, too. Both Bucky and Natasha can tell from the bag over his shoulder that he either decided to leave, or Cherise kicked him out. Bucky decides that he doesn't care which it is as he makes his way back into the house, into the sun room. Cherise is standing there, her arms crossed, looking out the window at Steve as he follows Natasha to her car. She looks to be trying to talk to him, but he doesn't respond.

            Cherise breathes a number of times before speaking at all, "We care about each other…we do…but this isn't working…he said we should take some time…from each other." She can't bring herself to say anything else for a while. Bucky passes a hand down her back, and she stands up a bit straighter.

            "He's _really_ angry with you, James."

            "I know that."

            "But he also said…that he'd rather it be _you_ than some other asshole." Cherise finally looks up into Bucky's eyes, smiling in a way that breaks his heart yet again.

            "He said he thinks you'd do right by me…and he can't give up his job just because it's dangerous, the one thing that I've been so upset about all this time. It's the one thing that won't change—he can't," she says, shaking her head, "I can't _make_ him. I don't really want to, anyway, if it makes him happy, even though I'm scared he'll die. And I'm _not_ starting a family with him out there—" she sighs, exhausted, "And goddamn, he loves Natasha, too. He loved her before he even met me, and I think I've always known that deep down." Bucky finds himself rubbing Cherise's back, until his hands simply rest on her waist.

            "We _really_ tried. I just don't understand why—" she keeps having to stop herself short, she's so upset.

            "God, please don't leave, James…I don't know what to do."

He only shushes her and she caves into his chest. He can feel from where her hand touches his shoulder that she's still wearing her rings. He'd seen Steve's for an instant when he walked out of the house. There's no doubt in Bucky's mind that Cherise and Steve love each other, but he feels assured in that moment that their marriage is over. It pains him to actually be happy for this.

 

            After ten days of not speaking to each other, Steve mans up enough to talk to Bucky. They meet at their favourite bar, unbeknownst to both Natasha and Cherise. Regardless, they keep their distance, make minimal eye contact.

            "I had to tell you in person," Steve says, "That you'd better take care of her."

He downs his drink before ordering another, and Bucky realizes that Steve is giving him permission to be with his wife.

            "It's not that you _can't_ , Steve, it's that you _won't_. You chose your job over her."

Steve sighs.

            "You know it's true…and I know how much being a soldier means to you. Don't forget that that's what I am, too. You almost let me kill you before, trying to save me." Steve finally looks at Bucky, and the glance is not full of hate, to his surprise.

            "And you _were_ taking care of her, you just weren't… _there_. Not as much as you needed to be. I know that Cherise isn't like Natasha. She didn't grow up in all of this stuff, but she's still pretty tough. How do you think she works with bodies, the messes people like us leave behind? Natasha knows how things are, the same way that we know how things are," Bucky explains, stealing a glance at Steve. They gradually turn to each other, and it starts feeling like they're friends again.

            "…Cher has feelings for you, Bucky. I know that. She told me."

            "She loves you," Bucky responds. Cherise had not been physically able to allow Bucky to sleep beside her in hers and Steve's bed, despite the fact that he'd been staying with her since she and Steve last spoke. Bucky continues after being reminded of this, "But if things aren't going to change, if you're still going to be Captain America every week, I don't think Cherise can live with that…Every time she came to me, she was crying over _you_. She was afraid for _you_."

Steve looks down in an extremely regretful manner for a moment. Bucky sighs.

            "Look, I know how you two feel about each other—"

            "But it's not enough. I can't stop. There's too much to be done…Were you aware that there are _still_ links to HYDRA? These are the same people who were responsible for what happened to you." As Bucky gazes at Steve from the corner of his eye, he can tell that Steve doesn't just do what he does for himself, to feel like some kind of hero. In fact, that's the _last_ reason that he does what he does. For an instant, Bucky has to close his eyes, as he swears he's still looking at that scrawny guy, the one he was always rescuing.

            "I'm just not ready to leave Natasha and Sam, Maria…I can't just leave my team, not when there's still so much to do."

            "…I know…"

            "And I would have seriously asked you to join me…but you were just getting back on your feet after I found you. You have this new company now, you're doing amazing things for vets, you've got job security…I didn't want to bring any bad memories back for you. You're my only link to the past, Bucky."

After a moment, Bucky grins.

            "James, I _love_ Cherise. And I'll always love her. That's why this is so hard for me. But I know that I had feelings for Natasha before I even met Reese. I'm ready to explore those…Reese doesn't want to start a family while I'm doing what I do, and I can't say when that's going to end. So I don't blame her…I _need_ to know that if you're going to be with her…" Steve stands up out of his stool and walks around the one that had been separating him from Bucky. Bucky places his beer back on the bar, giving Steve his undivided attention, "That you're going to _be_ with her…" he places his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

            "Don't do the same thing that I did," says Steve, and Bucky can see the desperation in his eyes. He clearly wants the best for Cherise, even if it's not with him. Bucky nods, holding back tears.

            "The moment that I met her, Steve," and that's all that he has to say.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short chapter. But other stuff coming before the end, and there's one other thing that I'm not sure of doing...

            "Are you _sure_ you want me to come in with you?" Bucky asks, rubbing Cherise's hips. Steve is already waiting with his lawyer in the conference room. She smiles shyly, something that never fails to make his heart beat hastily. Before she has a chance to answer him, Cherise's own lawyer steps out of the room.

            "Are you ready, Mrs. Rogers?"

This will be the last time anyone ever calls her that, and despite the whole situation being civilized now, Cherise's heart jumps.

            "Yeah, Claudia. Give me a minute."

The lawyer nods and steps back into the room. Cherise catches a glimpse of Steve at the head of the table, looking at some papers.

            "Hey," Bucky says softly. She feels his flesh hand on her cheek, "I'll only go in if you want me to," he promises.

            "…Yeah. If it's not going to be awkward for you—or for Steve."

Bucky grins.

            "We're fine. I promise," he says, kissing her forehead. She nods and Bucky releases her, thinking it's still probably best to not be so affectionate towards her in front of Steve. It's only been three weeks since Steve found out about them—and one since he and Cherise formally decided to get divorced. Bucky hasn't been able to stop eying this massive place. He has no doubt that Steve is loaded, but he knows that he wouldn't try to unfairly take anything away from Cherise in their settlements. He follows her into the room. Cherise sits in the chair right next to Steve, somewhat to Bucky's surprise. For some reason, he hadn't expected her to get as close to him as she had. Bucky takes a seat beside her, and quickly catches on the two exchanging these looks that are somewhat distant, and in many ways, sorry.

            "Reese," Steve says before displaying a small grin. The sun shines into the conference room brightly. Steve's lawyer is sitting on the other side of him, and Cherise's is next to him. Bucky wonders for a moment whether he should move, but the two lawyers appear to be looking at each other's documents, conferring last minute.

            "Steve," Cherise says softly. She can't help but feel a little bit awkward around him. Everything is still so recent. It will be a while before she finds herself able to meet his eyes and not feel strange.

            "Morning, Bucky," Steve says, and Bucky only nods. He finds himself resting a hand comfortingly on Cherise's knee under the table.

            "Well, why don't we get started then?" Steve's lawyer passes a paper across the table to Cherise, and Claudia begins to explain what she wants. The process becomes very tedious, and Bucky is aware that neither Steve nor Cherise really care about the material things; those hadn't mattered to them, not nearly as much as their marriage. They don’t even fight over anything, but when it becomes apparent that Steve wants to give Cherise the house they bought together, they reach a block.

            "Steve, I can't take that," she says. He looks at her with surprise and confusion.

            "Why? You _love_ that house," he says. She sighs and glances at Bucky.

            "…Look, I know how much you wanted that house when we were looking for one…I'm not going to take it from you," Steve says, reaching across the table and putting his hand atop hers. This motion doesn’t bother Bucky. Cherise looks down and closes her eyes with a small toothless, smile. She shakes her head.

            "I know. But I can't take that," she says.

            "Why?" Steve asks again. She keeps her eyes closed a bit longer before looking back up to the Captain with a smile. She gently pulls her hand out from under his before placing it atop his for a few seconds.

            "You're right. I do love that house…but there are just too many memories of _us_ in it. I don't know that I can really move on living there."

She turns to look at Bucky, who gives her a reassuring glance. She had talked to him about this prior to this meeting. He seemed to understand why she couldn't sleep with him in the same bed that had been meant for her and Steve. Bucky reaches into Cherise's chair and rubs her lower back comfortingly. Steve glances at him.

            "Are you sure?" he says, but they can all tell that he's still talking to her.

            "I thought for sure that our house would be the one thing you couldn't give up."

            "If I might," Bucky starts, and Steve's attention is already on him, "There's another one that she wants, down the street from yours. The elderly woman who was living there is actually moving out and looking to sell right now." Steve turns to Cherise again with some surprise.

            "Are you talking about the _Victorian_?" He asks, recalling the house that Cherise had initially wanted while they were looking. This particular house had been over hers and Steve's budget when they were searching for one.

            "But that would throw you into debt," he adds. Steve had even agreed to finish paying the mortgage for the home they had brought together. Cherise has no doubt that Steve can and will, if only to keep the situation amicable. She knows that it's not money he's hurt over losing.

            "It shouldn't—I got a bit of a raise," she says.

            "When?" He doesn't remember this happening.

            "Right around the beginning of the year, remember?"

Steve feels the guilt again. Perhaps Cherise had told him and he'd simply forgotten.

            "Anyway, I can make the down payment—"

            "And I'm going to help her out. I've been wanting to move out of your place for a while," Bucky explains. Steve stares down at another paper in front of him, taking a deep breath.

            "And I want you to know how much I really appreciate you giving me that apartment, Steve, even paying the rent until I got a job, but I think it's time for me to move out, have some real space."

The Captain nods, sparing Bucky a glance, "I know. You needed my help," he adds.

            "…You and Natasha should take the house," says Cherise with genuine compassion, "I know it meant a lot to me. It still _does_ , and that's why I'd rather someone I know be living in it, rather than a complete stranger," she adds. Steve glances back up at her and Bucky. _They're already trying to move in together?_ He wonders how far they've really progressed in their relationship; Cherise hadn't moved into Steve's old apartment until they were dating for at least three months. But as he hands her the property agreement form, watches Cherise sign away, he realizes that he'd rather her not live alone. If there's anyone that he can count on to protect her, it's his best friend.

 

ONE MONTH LATER

 

            Cherise awakens in bed, Bucky rushing back into the room, fumbling with his dress shirt and saying good morning to her. She smiles and sits up to stretch. He plows down into bed to kiss her cheek.

            "Don’t forget your—"

            " _Tie_. I know, I know," he says hastily.

            "I put it on the dresser last night, so I wouldn't forget," he explains, grabbing it and throwing it around his neck. He pauses to put it on in front of the mirror. He curses, fumbling with the silky material in his metallic fingers. Cherise steps out of bed and stands behind him, turning the tie her way. Bucky grins before facing her and letting her finish it.

            "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, grabbing her waist.

            "You don't _have_ to work for Steve—you could still go back to the PD—"

            "No, I've been there long enough," she says, interrupting him and placing her hands on his sturdy chest. Bucky leans over to kiss the top of her head.

            "I just don't want it to be awkward for you…maybe it's too soon—"

            "No. I need a change," she says, yawning. Bucky holds her tighter. During their divorce process, Steve had offered Cherise an executive position in the forensics department of his corporation. She had initially believed he was lying that the exec for the position was resigning. She'd thought he only wanted her to be somewhere that he could check in on her, or maybe he wanted her to be able to pay for the new house more easily. Maybe Steve thought that because Cherise had refused to let him pay more than fifty percent of the mortgage for their prior house, that she also refused to let Bucky pay for more than half the mortgage on their new home. And maybe he just wanted to know that she would be secure. After thinking about it, Cherise had decided that the Captain's intentions were lucrative, but had stemmed from his protective nature. He'd be paying her much more than what she had made working with the police department because Steve's corporation is federal. Cherise had heavily weighed the fact that there, she'd be the one in control of the _entire_ division, a step up from what she had been doing at the previous job.

            "I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to take this job just because he practically gave you everything. Look, Steve and I talked about it, and I made sure that he knew that he has no influence—"

            "Bucky," she laughs, lifting her head to meet his eyes, "It's _okay_. I probably won't even see him most of the time, anyway. We'll simply be working in the same building—and I'm not taking this job just because Steve offered it. I feel no obligation, okay? It's just the best decision _for me_ , like you wanted."

He sighs and holds her hand to kiss the fingers.

            "…I just want you to be okay," he says. His electric gaze shocks her in a most pleasant way.

            "Are you and _Steve_ okay?" she asks, cocking a brow. Bucky laughs.

            "Yeah. I guess you could say we're getting further past awkward every week."

            "Good. Keep getting past awkward. And hey, I'll be getting more benefits, more money…I'm _happy_. I promise."

            "…Okay. That’s all I want."

Neither Cherise nor Bucky have any idea that there are more bumps in the road coming.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of glass related injury.

            Bucky's arm continues to make the same whirring sound that Cherise had noticed for the first time a month ago, when she laid with him in hers and Steve's bed. She can't help smiling into Bucky's kiss. As far as she knows, the bionic limb only makes this noise when she's touching him. She begins to laugh quietly. Bucky pulls away.

            "What's so funny?" he asks, almost nervously. She shakes her head. She still hasn't told him about his arm. She finds it cute, and it reminds her of the way that her heart races when he's near her. She fears that if she tells Bucky about it, his arm will no longer purr in response to her touch. He'd be too aware of it to just let it happen.

            "Are you sure?" he asks, leaning in on her where they lie on the sofa. She laughs when he restrains her playfully, pinning her wrists to the freshly new upholstery. Cherise lifts her head to kiss his neck. The arm purrs again. She smiles against Bucky's skin. She feels the air rushing through his windpipe when he inhales.

            "Well, you're laughing at _something_ ," he says, a hint of seduction in his voice, "And I'm not gonna let you go until you tell me what," he adds. She kisses at his neck more, suckles it. He moans and his arm just keeps whirring. The sound reminds Cherise of the dizzy sensation she had felt the first time she realized that she was falling in love. She wonders whether Bucky even notices the sound, but as she continues at his neck, she has a feeling that he's too wrapped up in her to notice. She passes her hand down his metallic shoulder, and it seems to vibrate beneath her fingers.

            "You really get me going. Did you know that?" he asks, moving his head to meet her eyes, peering down at her on the couch. She knows this all too well.

            "Are we going to talk about your day?" he asks before kissing her forehead and lingering there. His body presses to hers in all the right places, heavily, but not to a suffocating degree; he's holding himself up with those muscles, the same sort of strength that had captivated her with Steve in the first place. Cherise shakes her head a moment. She shouldn't be thinking about Steve while she's with Bucky. In truth, she hasn't thought about him too much since their divorce was finalized, and when she does, she usually just remembers the good times. Despite this, it leaves her feeling sad. She crawls hastily out from under Bucky.

            "Hmm?" He gazes at her with concern as she reaches for the cushion behind her and hugs it, allowing it to hover in front of her face so that he can't tell whether she's smiling. Shiny fingers grab the cushion out of her hand, and when he throws it behind himself, feathers explode in the air. Cherise gasps.

            "Bucky, that was—"

            " _Shit_ ," he mutters, backing away from her and sighing. He eyes the myriad of feathers that float on the air before glaring at his arm as if it has just insulted him.

            "I-I'm sorry. It was an accident," he admits. The look on his face when he turns to gaze at her makes Cherise feel sorry _for_ him. He clearly hadn't meant to destroy the item. They had only bought the couch two weeks prior. He obviously didn't want to destroy it. Bucky stands and takes a step back from her. Sometimes he does this. The first time had been when they were kissing in bed one night. He had dug his metal hand into the mattress and torn it, an accident, of course. Bucky is only glad he hadn't been touching Cherise when his hand decided to have a mind of its own. He sighs, looking away from her.

            "Baby…" she says softly, standing, "It's oka—" placing her palms on his chest. He takes another large step back, nearly causing her to lose balance.

            " _No_. Just…stay there. I think something's wrong with my arm…I've gotta have Tony look at it again. It's been too long—it's probably not stable," he says, gripping the shiny bicep with his flesh hand, flexing the metal fingers. As Cherise watches, she doesn't believe for a second that he has lost all control. The cushion was simply a mistake. She imagines that it must be hard to remember his own strength at times. Then again, she recalls Natasha telling her of his knack for ripping off car doors. At one time, this would have scared Cherise shitless, but as Bucky backs further away from her, until his back contacts the wall, she knows that he would never try to intentionally hurt her. He would have died first. Bob gets up from his pillow to come and roll around in the feathers. This makes Cherise smile, despite the fact that Bucky refuses to.

            Cherise sighs, suddenly relieved that Bucky's attention has been drawn elsewhere. She hadn't wanted to tell him that she'd actually run into Steve that day, her first day on the new job. Actually, that would have been a lie. She didn't _run_ into Steve, he had dropped by her new office to pay her a visit, bring her a fruit basket, which she had intentionally left in the car so Bucky wouldn't see it. It wasn't like Steve had tried to kiss her or anything, but when he hugged her, she just thought it felt warmer than it should have, considering the circumstances…or maybe Steve has _always_ hugged this way. She doesn't want Bucky to think that she regrets her decision to be with him. She doesn't regret it _at all_.

            Cherise realizes that perhaps she simply hasn't had proper closure with the Captain, and that maybe she _shouldn't_ have taken his job offer. The arrangement simply makes it possible for her to run into him by chance. She thinks it's probably better for her to not even see Steve for a while, give her time to feel the gravity of their divorce. Someone she had only just met in the elevator that morning even called her Mrs. Rogers. She hadn't had the heart to tell the new colleague that she and Steve separated. And as she had made her way to her office, she wondered whether everyone even knew what happened. Bucky sighs, rotating his metallic shoulder, staring at it.

            "Bucky, it was an accident," Cherise explains, starting towards him. He looks to her with wide eyes.

            "No—don't come near me," he pleads, extending his flesh hand. Cherise stops, tilts her head to the side.

            "This isn't the first time I've had an _accident_ around you…I coulda had my hand in your hair," he explains fearfully.

            "You didn't—"

            "But I could have," he says, crossing his arms and looking down a moment. They had tried to have some fun in the shower the previous week, and it ended with a hole in the tile wall, one that Bucky had fixed, but still, he'd been frightened that it could have been worse.

            "…But if you stay over there all night, how are we supposed to kiss?" she asks enticingly. A small smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth. She starts towards him again.

            " _Don't_ ," he says. She doesn’t listen. She approaches until she's close enough to stand up on her tiptoes and kiss his cleft. Bucky's eyes close in ecstasy.

            "You're the last thing I'm afraid of," Cherise says quietly. He looks down at her.

            "Well, you _should_ be," he says, clutching her by the waist with his flesh arm, keeping the bionic one pulled behind his back. Cherise laughs.

            "It's not funny," he says seriously, "I don't want you to get hurt. I won't be responsible for that. Do you hear me?"

She simply runs her hands soothingly up and down his chest. Bucky's arm begins to purr again, and for a moment, Cherise wonders whether she's actually _causing_ the limb to react this way. Maybe she makes Bucky lose control more literally than he'd meant.

            "Shh," she breathes, coating his neck in kisses. He slowly gives in, until he's moaning like he had on the couch. She sees the metal limb trembling, starting slowly out from behind his back. She knows that he wants to hold her with _both_ hands, but he's fighting the bionic limb out of fear. Cherise pauses.

            "Bucky, if you keep this up, we'll never be able to get _closer_ than this…and I know that you don't want that," she says, cocking a brow and looking up into his face. He casts Cherise a shy and regretful glance before sighing.

            "Come on, you've got to let a technician in one of your labs take a look at it—"

            "I only trust Stark. He fixed it before, but I don't know when he's gonna be around again. He's hard to reach sometimes," Bucky admits, rolling his eyes. Tony had made him CEO of their prosthetics company. Stark only passes through once or twice a month, when he isn't busy carousing elsewhere in the world on "business trips." Cherise kisses his chin again, nibbling on it. She feels him smile.

            "Come on. It's been a long day, and you promised you'd rub my back, remember?"

            "Baby…I can't touch you when I'm like this," he says with disappointment, holding Cherise back with his flesh hand. The stove begins to beep in the kitchen, and she walks out of the room to tend to what's in the oven, hearing Bucky sigh regretfully behind her. They had been _sleeping_ together without really sleeping together. When the divorce began, Cherise had told Bucky that physically, she needed some space, so they hadn't been having sex. He had kept to embracing her, for the most part, but found himself wanting to be at a distance after the accident in the shower. He doesn't want anything bad to happen. Their relationship, their love, it's all still fairly new. His nightmare where he had crushed her hand has recurred since they moved into their new house. It keeps him up some nights, just watching her sleep, making sure his bionic limb doesn't snake around her waist. But when he wakes, he often finds it there, and pulls it back as quickly as possible.

            Bucky reasons that he must still be feeling some guilt over going behind Steve's back with his feelings for Cherise. Maybe that's all this is, and maybe his arm is just the somatic end of his anxiety. He walks over to the glass coffee table, stoops to pick up a feather from the cushion. He then walks to the closet to pull out the vacuum cleaner and goes to work, Bob barking at the machine and tapping it with his paws like he's rabid. When Cherise comes in to tell Bucky that dinner is ready, she finds him staring out the window, past the TV. He's just sitting there as if he doesn't hear, see, or feel anything. She hates to see him like this. He had cleaned up the feathers from the pillow, but failed to put the vacuum away.

            "James?" she finally says from the doorway. His head twitches only slightly at the sound of her voice.

            "What are you thinking about?" she asks, coming closer.

            "Cherry—I told you not to get close to me," he says, standing up from where he's sitting before her hand can make contact with his shoulder. Cherise sighs.

            "For Christ's sake, James, it was _just_ a cushion. I'm not angry about—"

            "It's _not_ the cushion I'm worried about," he barks, crossing his arms. Cherise keeps her distance then.

            "Okay, well if it really worries you that much, _please_ , just call Tony again, email him, text him, whatever it is you have to do—so he'll realize you need help…"

Bucky takes a deep breath. Steve had left Cherise's mind the moment that Bucky had freaked out about his arm.

            "James, I don't need space anymore. I need …" she trails off, sighing. He feels even sorrier, recalling what Steve had made him promise. Although that was kind of different. Steve hadn't been spending enough time with her. Perhaps she had needed more affection than he could have given while being away so frequently. But Bucky barely has to do much being in charge of a company that Tony had helped him to build. He has no excuse to be distant from Cherise. He closes the gap between them and wraps his flesh arm around her. He still won't touch her with the metal one. Cherise is relieved, despite the hug feeling incomplete without both of his arms around her.

            "I'm sorry," he says.

 

            Cherise finds herself wishing that it were possible for Bucky to get drunk. Maybe the alcohol would relax him, but after pouring him a fifth glass, she doesn't notice a drastic change in his demeanor where he sits with her at the kitchen table. He only grins and finishes a bowl of ice cream. She suggests the couch when they're finished, but she knows he's not going to try and mess around as she leans further back against his chest, stroking his forearm. Instead, he falls asleep in a matter of minutes, and she wonders whether her potpie was really that heavy. Cherise turns around carefully to admire the sleeping man. His head rests on the arm of the couch, tilted back a bit, so that his chin is in the perfect position to be kissed.

            Cherise caresses his chestnut hair, resting her head on his shoulder and bathing in his warmth. Bucky had been waiting for her by the time she got back from work, something that had been rare to come home to when she was with Steve. She kisses Bucky's chin, unable to resist. He only stirs just a little bit, turning his head in his sleep. She grins from ear to ear as his brows furrow together momentarily. Cherise laughs through her nose quietly. She kisses him again, and this time, his metallic fingers swat at the disturbance. She starts a moment upon realizing that he had actually hit her in the face—albeit by accident. Maybe she shouldn't have tickled him. It isn't until he sits up straight with wide eyes that Cherise feels the shards of glass from the coffee table resting beneath her on the floor.

            Bucky gasps in a way that actually frightens her. She feels him beginning to pick her up, just as she registers all the pain in her body. This coffee table is new as well, and now broken.

            "Oh god. _No_ ," he mumbles, his face twisting into an agony that she hasn't seen before. There are tears leaking out of his eyes almost automatically. Bucky pulls Cherise up onto the couch and she doesn't notice the rather large shard of glass sticking out of her wrist until he actually pulls it out, his eyes wide when he stares at it before throwing it aside.

            "Cherise," he says, his lips trembling, "I didn't mean to." It feels to Bucky as if his nightmare is coming true already. He rushes to stop Bob, in his empathic curiosity, from walking any closer to the shattered glass on the floor. He picks the dog up and locks him in another room before rushing back to the couch and picking Cherise up.

            "I'm f-fine," she mumbles, trying to ignore the pain in her wrist. She can feel that she had gotten cut in a few other places, and wonders just how badly as Bucky rushes her out to his car. He places her gingerly in the back seat, apologizing frantically. His panic scares her more than the injury as he rips his shirt to tie a piece of the fabric around her wrist. He drives her straight to the ER. She decides that later she will try to convince him that this wasn't his fault. She hadn't thought that it would have turned out so badly if she kissed him in his sleep. She realizes with a pang that Bucky had been right, she should be afraid.

 

            When she walks into the building with her wrist wrapped up, she doesn't let it stop her from attempting to lead a normal day. She makes it to her office before pulling her phone out of her purse to see more texts from Bucky, apologizing about hitting her in his sleep, destroying the coffee table. He tried to convince her not to go to work. Despite this, she hadn't bothered to wear tights with her skirt, allowing the bandages to show. Cherise had forgiven Bucky repeatedly, but he clearly wasn't convinced that everything was okay. He barely touched her upon visiting her in the room after the doctor stitched up her wrist.

            Cherise pauses at her desk to realize that nothing like this has ever happened with Steve. Is it possible that Bucky is actually _stronger_ than him? She knows that it was an accident, and if anyone is to blame, it's herself. She knew something was wrong with Bucky's arm, and she'd gone out of her way to mess with him while he slept, if even out of an attempt to make him laugh. She realizes then that she's probably going to have a hard time writing anything down as she attempts to dial Tony's number. She groans in the pain for only a moment before catching his voicemail. She leaves him a message regarding Bucky's arm and what had transpired the previous night, sauntering over to her window to watch the sun shine.

            "Anyway, if you could _really_ get back to James—or even me—that would be great," she says, placing her hand on the window. The wrist aches and she removes her fingers, wincing, even further when the bruise on her cheek is agitated by her facial expression.

            "He hit me in the face last night. There's _really_ something going on," she repeats before hanging up the phone. She sighs. Cherise glances out the window for a few seconds longer before turning around to find none other than her ex-husband standing there. She fears for a moment that he caught the end of that message she was leaving and misconstrued it, and knows that he had when he takes a few steps closer to get a good look at her.

            "Cherise," he says carefully, stepping around the desk. When she watches his eyes scan her from head to toe, pick up on the various bandages on her legs, her wrist wrapped up, the bruise on her cheek, she begins to try and explain.

            "Steve—"

            "Bucky did this to you?" he asks with sheer fear, his eyes plastered to her wrist.

            "Wait, wait, wait—it was a _complete accident_ —"

            "An _accident_? How the hell does something like _this_ happen by accident?" he asks, getting even closer and staring at all the little wounds.

            " _Steve_!" Cherise just about shouts. He meets her eyes at last, "Just _listen to me_ —can you do that for once?" and as she presses her hand to her chest, she winces out loud at the way this motion had caused her wrist to bend.

            "W-we were lying on the couch—James was _asleep_ —his arm has been acting up. He hasn’t had it checked in a while. I was messing with him, and he…he pushed me, and I landed on the coffee table. He wasn't _trying_ to do it," she explains as calmly as she can, but she had noted the way that the Captain's eyes narrowed uneasily when she had winced.

            "And then he woke up, saw what happened, took me straight to the hospital. _I'm fine_."

            "…If something's wrong with his arm and he knows it, why the hell were you sleeping next to him?" he asks, and for a moment it sounds to Cherise as if he's talking to her like they're still together. Her heart races as she stares up into his angry eyes.

            "I said I was fine," she says, trying to maintain her calm. Steve sighs, gazing out the window.

            "And…what are you doing in my office, anyway?" she asks, eying him up and down. He's not wearing office clothes, which tends to be the case when he's here.

            "Shouldn't you be on a mission?" she asks. To Steve, this genuinely sounds like an attempt to hurt him. Maybe she meant to. To be fair, he was basically accusing Bucky of abusing her, and why in God's name would Bucky do that? The Captain drops a file on Cherise's desk.

            "As you know, there were documents HR needs from you, since you just started here," he says, but she can tell that he's not happy to find her this way. Steve continues to stare out the window. Cherise wonders then why Steve, or whoever it is that runs human resources, couldn’t have simply sent an intern to her office. Was Steve making up an excuse to come and see her?

            "I was on my way downstairs and I figured I'd just drop something here before you got in," he adds. So he hadn't expected her to be there? Cherise doesn't buy it. As Steve finally turns to look at her again, she notices him scanning her all over some more, his brows furrowing with discontent. She tries to ignore the look as she pulls the file open.

            "You forgot to claim yourself on the W-4," he explains.

She begins sifting through the papers until she finds the right document. Cherise sighs and reaches for a fountain pen atop her desk. Her hand trembles and she winces audibly again while trying to write, inhaling through gritted teeth and dropping the pen. She picks it up off the desk. The gash in her wrist makes it difficult to really clutch the pen. Steve's stare is searing a hole through her soul. Cherise slashes a one on the correct line, the ink having gone significantly past its mark before she drops the pen again. She slips the form back into the folder and closes it. When she turns to Steve to hand it to him, the colour seems to have drained from his face. He takes the folder, still staring at her.

            "Well, you should be _happy_ , Steve," she says angrily, "Bucky can't even _touch_ me." The Captain looks beside himself with regret when she says this. Cherise wishes right away that she could take her words back, but Steve had already heard them. She sniffles a moment, turning away from him.

            "…Reese, Bucky has been through _a lot_. I know that better than anyone, so please believe that I'm just…looking out for you—for Bucky, too. He might still be dealing with PTSD. Do you really think—?"

            "How's Natasha?" she breathes, shaking her head, not wanting this conversation to continue.

            "Reese—"

            "I called Tony Stark. He's going to have a look at James's arm. He fixed it before when he was having problems. We'll be fine," she says quietly. Steve sighs, standing there a moment. Cherise is surprised when she feels his hand rest in the small of her back for a number of seconds before he starts around her desk.

            "I really hope that you enjoy it here," he says, "I'm going to bring these back to Lucy in HR—"

            "Steve," she says. He pauses with his hand on the door, turning to look back at her with pain for seeing her look so banged up. She could have cried with him looking at her like that.

            "Please, don't _even_ bring this up to James. _Please_ , Steve. He's upset enough as it is. Okay?"

The Captain only eyes her a moment longer before leaving the room. She hopes that him seeing her like that doesn't cloud his mind for the mission ahead. She wouldn't forgive herself if something were to happen to Steve because he was distracted by her.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is tired.

            As soon as the Captain leaves, Cherise sits crying helplessly at her desk. The way that he had looked at her, talked about Bucky, she _hated_ it, even while knowing that Steve genuinely cares for her safety. She honestly doesn't want to see Steve and Bucky's friendship take an irreversible turn for the worst. To the best of her knowledge, it has survived hers and Steve's divorce. She cares about Steve, and had told Bucky in the process of their divorce that she would always care for the Captain. She had only realized by the time they were married that his lifestyle and his work simply could never fit hers, something she hadn't heavily weighed before marrying him. Cherise and Steve had agreed that neither of them could compromise on this. Whether Steve knew it or not, Cherise _did_ understand that he has always been willing to die for what he believes in. And he was right, he couldn't just leave his colleagues hanging. Cherise had grown fond of Kate and Sam, Maria, even Natasha, despite the circumstances.

            Cherise weeps for Bucky, too. She knows how much it scared him to make this kind of mistake. Perhaps it's possible that he could have killed her. Even if he had done worse damage, Cherise would have found it in her heart to forgive him. He wouldn't come near her after they reached the ER. She thinks about drawing up a letter of resignation. Maybe she just needs a break altogether. She should never have accepted this position. It doesn't matter whether Steve offered it out of guilt for having an affair, or the kindness of his heart, or whatever. Things are so complicated now. Cherise tries to take a few deep breaths, wind down. She decides that this is all due to stress, and she has to try and stick it out.

            After a couple of minutes spent weeping, Cherise reaches into her purse for the Percocet. She feels badly for what she'd said to Steve, about Bucky not being able to touch her. She hadn't meant it. Those words must have come from a place within her that is still somewhat fragile about Steve's affair with Natasha. She realizes that the Captain must still love her, however, or he would not have been as heavily concerned upon walking into her office and finding her so banged up. Cherise finds it difficult to open the pill bottle with her wrist shaking like that. The wound from the glass coffee table is relatively deep. Cherise curses out loud before wincing and giving up. She wishes that Bucky were in her office then, to open the bottle for her.

            Just as she throws the prescription against the wall angrily, the Captain walks back into her office. He hadn't even bothered to knock. He pauses upon seeing Cherise so angry. She sighs, gingerly touching her wrist.

            "Steve, please go. I just need to be alone right now," she breathes, not wanting to look at him. He doesn't listen. He walks right over to the pills to pick the bottle up. He reads the label before looking at Cherise.

            "I can't _fucking_ open it," she explains impatiently. He steps towards her carefully, until she can no longer avoid his gaze. She glances up at him, wiping her eyes hastily. He pops the bottle open with ease and pours a tablet, holds it out to her in the palm of his hand. Cherise reaches for her mug of tea and takes the pill from Steve.

            "Thank you," she says quietly before popping it into her mouth. He sighs. There's no paper work in his hands. Had he come back for something? She had closed her eyes while taking the pill, listening to Steve cap the bottle and place it on her desk.

            "I'm sorry," he says gently. She opens her eyes.

            "…You think I don't know that? …Please…I just need to be alone," she explains, crossing her arms and staring out the window. The Captain doesn't move.

            "I didn't mean to—"

            "I asked you to go," she says a bit louder. Steve doesn't budge. When Cherise realizes he's not going anywhere, she speaks again, "I just wish that you would have been _honest_ with me about _her_." Steve knows exactly what she's talking about.

            "And it's not that I never wondered if there was someone else…I just can't believe that you kept _lying_ to me, every time that I asked you where you were that day, when I couldn't find you…you _never_ told me. James told me," she explains, wiping her nose, "And you'll never know how guilty I feel for cheating on you, too…because we swore we would never lie to each other. And that's exactly what we did," she finishes, shrugging.

            "I agree," he says, and she knows that his concise response couldn't have been more accurate.

            "And now I'm…feeling responsible for all of this damage between you and James. I _want_ you to be friends—I really do, Steve," she says, turning to face him completely.

            "We _are_ friends, Reese."

When he grips her waist, she closes her eyes and a shiver runs down her spine. She inhales deeply and takes a large step back, at which Steve's grip loosens. His hands fall to his sides. In truth, he hadn't even realized that he had touched her until she moved. It was just something he was so used to doing.

            "I think he feels like this is his fault. I think that's why his arm is malfunctioning. I _need_ you to not hate him—"

            "I _don't_ —"

            "If you want to hate someone, please hate me," she says, standing her ground firmly. Steve looks at her sadly.

            "…I _don't_ hate you, Cherise. I could never hate you. You know that."

            "You shouldn't be here," she says when he closes in on her again, gripping her waist a second time. Steve sighs.

            "I couldn't...just _leave_ without making sure you were okay. I know that you care about Bucky, and I want it to work between you two. He needs someone who's going to take good care of him, and I know that you will."

Cherise finds herself smiling with her eyes closed.

            "I also came back because I wanted to tell you to go home. You shouldn't be here like this."

            "Steve, I can handle—"

            "I'm _serious_ ," he says, staring down at her, "The way you could barely hold that pen…"

            "But you know something, Steve, I'm a lot stronger than you think. You don't always have to try and protect me, okay?" she pulls back from him, grabbing the bottle of Percocet off the table and pushing it back into her purse. He grins.

            "Well, you know me. That's just the way I am." He shrugs. This is the number one thing Cherise has always loved about Steve. She grins back at him.

            "I just want you to know that despite everything we've been through, I'm here for you. I care about you. And if you ever need to talk…"

She nods. He starts off, calling over his shoulder.

            "I still think you should take the day off."

 

            When she opens the front door, something savory meets her nostrils. It smells like someone has been cooking.

            "James?" she calls, hanging her jacket, leaving her purse on the table by the door. She makes her way into the kitchen and doesn’t find him there. He has to be somewhere; his car is in the driveway. The empty kitchen doesn't explain why it smells like food. Cherise starts out of it to search the house.

            "Bob?" she calls. The dog comes running out to the hallway to greet her. She stoops to rub him.

            "Where's daddy?" she asks. Bob rolls onto his back for a belly rub. After a moment of indulging the animal, she starts into the den. Cherise peers through the doorway to find the lights off, replaced by candles and what looks like some kind of takeout on a new, wooden coffee table. Bucky is nowhere to be seen, however. She laughs lightly to herself. Upon getting closer, she picks up a bouquet of roses from the table. This is the classic sort of romance, the kind of TV movie she would have watched alone at night while Steve worked. Cherise nearly drops the flowers when a warm gust breezes against the nape of her neck, a pair of arms grabbing her securely from behind. She gasps, quickly recognizing the glimmer of Bucky's arm in the candle lit room. She wonders why suddenly he's using it again, to touch her, no less.

            "You scared me," she breathes. He laces the metallic fingers into hers. She grins.

            "I'm sorry," he says, breathing against her neck before kissing it. She tilts her head to the side and sighs pleasurably.

            "Tony fixed my arm," he says between kisses, and she relaxes with his metal hand gripping hers lightly, "He said he was in some mountains somewhere, wasn't getting good reception. That's why he hasn't been returning calls." Bucky explains all of this while kissing her neck and shoulder.

            "I wanted to surprise you," he adds. She stares down at the chestnut coffee table. It's glossy and new, but goes well with the antiquated style of their house.

            "Bucky, I love it," she breathes, loving his touch even more and forgetting about the food on the table. He hums against her skin.

            "Do you?" He pauses, to Cherise's dismay, turning her to face him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

            "I'm so sorry about the last one. How's your wrist?" he asks, cupping her arm carefully with the metal hand. He lifts it to his lips and kisses it gingerly, looking apologetic.

            "It's okay. I've been taking the painkillers—it's barely a problem," she says, lying only lightly. She had had difficulty writing and even typing on the computer at work.

            "It should _never_ have happened," he adds, staring at the wrap around her wrist.

            "It was an accident, baby. Stop beating yourself up about it," she says determinedly, cupping his handsome face in her hands. He smiles weakly.

            "I love you."

Her heart bounces, harder when Bucky presses his lips to hers. The kiss lasts much shorter than she had hoped it would.

            "I hope you're hungry," he says, cocking a brow. Cherise eyes him a number of seconds before reaching for his belt buckle. She pulls it off, dropping it on the floor, before looking back up into his eyes while she unbuttons and unzips the fly of his pants.

            "I thought we'd save that for dessert," he says seductively, clawing gently into her hips as she begins to unbutton his dress shirt.

            "I want dessert first," she responds with lechery. And right after she says it, Bucky's hands find the zipper at the back of her pencil skirt and pull it down. She steps out of the item, and also her heels, finding herself even shorter than she had been in front of him moments ago. She tugs at Bucky's undershirt. He pulls it off and helps her out of her blouse, his hands quickly maneuvering behind her and unclasping her bra right after. She jumps up on him with a laugh, catching him about the neck at the same time as he catches her by the rear, drifting out of the den. He knows that they'll more than likely break the couch if they try to have sex there.

            Bucky wastes no time in carrying Cherise up the stairs and to their bedroom. This will be the first time that they make love there, Cherise realizes, as Bucky nudges the door open with his foot and gently lowers her to the mattress. She continues to push her hands through his hair and down his back as he hurries out of his pants. He pulls her underwear off so quickly that she hears a slight tearing noise. She gasps before grinning as he begins kissing at her neck, traveling south until he meets the crevice that separates her cunt and right thigh. His tongue is hot and wet inside her suddenly, and she gazes up at him as he pulls her lower back so that his face rests between her legs.

            Cherise begins to tremble almost immediately. It isn't long before she feels herself unravel, moaning to the extent that she grows nervous that the neighbors might hear. Bucky kisses her several times where she's dripping, licking his lips and lowering her waist back to the bed before climbing on top, fumbling with himself a moment. She gasps, feeling a pleasant stretch as he eases himself inside, moaning. They had been overdue for this. She pushes her hands through his hair, tugging gently. His flesh hand cradles the back of Cherise's head. Bucky gazes longingly into her eyes, slowing down enough to kiss her. She continues to sigh and moan as Bucky's metallic hand gently intertwines hers, the weight of it and the warmth comforting, until she winces out loud; he had leant on her wounded wrist.

            Bucky starts, pausing as Cherise's eyes close tightly and she continues to grimace. He begins to wonder why he can't seem to do _anything_ without hurting her. He had completely stopped, unable to rip his gaze off the tear that falls out of Cherise's eye. He lifts her up into a sitting position.

            "I'm sorry," he breathes hastily. "I didn’t mean to." He hadn't even touched her hand very heavily. He cups Cherise's face, apologizing again. She opens her eyes and takes a large inhale, smiling weakly.

            "It's okay," she chokes. Despite the genuine way that she looks at him, Bucky can't help but feel his heart shatter. He rubs Cherise's back repetitively.

            "…I shouldn't have—"

            "James, _don't_. It was an accident. I forgive you," she says, messing with the wrapping on her wrist. It pains her to find his eyes wet when she looks into them. She cups his cheek.

            "James…it was an accident. I shouldn't have started this," she breathes, knowing her body still aches in places from falling on the glass table the previous night. Bucky shakes his head.

            "I don't _want_ any more accidents," he admits. She kisses him.

            "No, it's my fault. I'm already hurt. This wouldn't have happened otherwise."

Her kissing about his face begins to cheer him up a little bit. She leans her forehead against his chest a while, breathing.

            "James, I love you. I know that you would never hurt me on purpose. It's okay." He sighs pleasantly, his head resting on her shoulder and her arms around his neck.

 

            Cherise doesn't spend most of the day in her office. Part of the reason is that she wants to avoid Steve. She finds herself in the forensics lab making fingerprints for agents who will need them for a prospective mission. She finds the work interesting, as she has never really _made_ fingerprints before, so much as analyze them to figure out who they belong to. She had heard of people burning their fingerprints off, so as to remain untraceable, but never of people making them for any reason. The previous night, Bucky had tried to convince Cherise to stay home with her wrist, but she had felt somewhat awkward around him after they failed in bed again; he would keep looking at her so apologetically, or like he wanted to be near her, but just kept away. She honestly could not have stayed home all day while he did that. However, she had awoken to find him pulling out of the driveway, heading out to work earlier than usual.

            Cherise oversees the lab for the greater part of the day. By the time that she makes it up to her office, around 4:30, she pauses when she sees Steve there, looking as if he has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A stunning, bright, and colourful bundle of orchids and callas are in a vase on Cherise's desk. Her heart stops a moment.

            "Steve, I—"

            "They're from Bucky," he explains. She closes her eyes for a few seconds, laughing to herself. Steve appears to be straightening the flowers up, as multiple plastic flower stem tubes filled with water sit in the trash bin.

            "He sent them over earlier, and I just happened to be coming in when I heard they were for you…I didn't plan on being here when you came back from the labs," he explains. She knows he's telling the truth. She begins to approach him.

            "There's a card, too," he says, pulling it off the desk, reaching over from where he stands to hand it to her.

            "And chocolates," Steve adds with a grin that Cherise had not expected to see. He seems to pull the cordiform box out of thin air when he reaches behind himself to get it off the table. Cherise laughs, closing her eyes again.

            "How...old-fashioned," she says. When she looks up to Steve, he appears rather happy.

            "Yeah, I was wondering whether guys were still that cliché with romance."

She laughs a little bit before looking around a moment.

            " _You_ were…Wait, how did you get in here? I swear I locked the door."

            "Master key," Steve explains, pulling it out of his pocket. Cherise has already forgotten that he's the boss around here. If he had wanted to get into anyone's office, it would have been relatively easy for him to gain access.

            "Look—I just thought they'd been sitting downstairs at the front desk for too long. They would have wilted and I—"

            "Steve, it's _okay_ ," Cherise explains. His gaze locks on her wrist again. She tries to ignore this as she walks around the desk.

            "That was really thoughtful of you," she says genuinely. Steve turns around to face her as she begins to open the box of gourmet chocolates.

            "Would you like a chocolate, Steve?" she asks distractedly, staring at the ridiculously detailed delicacies. She doesn't doubt that Bucky had spent a pretty penny on them, for the sake of trying to convey to her how much she matters to him.

            "No, but thank you," says Steve, "Had a big lunch."

Cherise narrows her eyes slyly.

            "The last time I checked, you were Captain Chocolate. Here," Cherise continues, starting around her desk with the open box, Steve fighting a laugh.

            "Have one—have _ten_. You _know_ I'm not about to eat all of these by myself."

            "They're for _you_ , Cher—"

            " _Steve_."

            "Alright," he says, admitting defeat. Cherise watches his long, wheat gold lashes flutter atop a pair of sky blue eyes that begin to dart back and forth undecidedly. As the Captain reaches into the box, extending one strong arm, Cherise finds her heart pounding. Why does he still have this effect on her? Steve's eyes catch hers unexpectedly as he finally picks up a piece of chocolate.

            "Is everything okay between the two of you?"

The concern in Steve's voice sounds as if it's coming from his heart, and not from a place of distrust, to Cherise's relief. She sighs, waiting for the Captain to pick a second chocolate.

            "I'm only asking because it looks to me like Bucky's _really_ sorry…please don't tell him that I told you this, but you're the first broad—" Steve cuts himself short, tilting his head down to the right, correcting himself, " _woman_ he's ever been with for this long…you're special to him." She finds her eyes widening; hers and Bucky's relationship has only been official for about a month and a half, and now she's learning that this is the longest he's ever been in one. For a second, as she picks a piece of candy and pops it into her mouth, detecting caramel on the inside, she wonders whether this is something Bucky even remembers. He hasn't told her before, something she thinks he would have told her by now.

            "Really?" she asks quietly. Steve nods, reaching for another piece of chocolate in the same instant that his eyes gravitate back to her wrist. Cherise moves it under the cordiform box, holding it up closer to Steve's face.

            "Take all you want. Please. I don't need to eat all of these, because I _will_ if they're still sitting in my office next week," Cherise admits. Steve smiles weakly, but she knows he's thinking about her wrist and how exactly she'd gotten hurt to the extent that she did.

            "I know you will," Steve says, and the way that he says it is almost seductive. Cherise feels the box travel down a few inches as Steve picks out a few more candies. He then turns and walks out of the room in what seems like only two large paces. She's glad that he leaves then, as she places the chocolates back on her mahogany desk, reaching for Bucky's note. She finally notices that she's shivering, which is strange, as she's not cold.

 

 

            "Tell me how _exactly_ it happened," Steve says, twisting his glass between his fingers. Bucky sighs, loosening his tie. His hair had begun to come ungelled, and Steve picks up on the fact that he's probably had a long day.

            "…So, you're telling me that you think I stabbed Cherise in the wrist? Steve, I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

            "I didn't say that—"

            "It's what you were _thinking_ , pal," Bucky says, taking a sip of his drink and eying Steve a few seconds.

            "Look, I'm just concerned…maybe you were right. Remember when I kept trying to set you up on dates? You kept saying that you weren't ready."

            "I _am_ ready," Bucky says, a bit more defensively than he'd meant to. Steve sighs.

            "You think that I haven't been worried that I'll screw this up?" Bucky adds. He shakes his head.

            "You're _not_ going to screw it up…it's just that…well, the other day, I was bringing some paperwork from HR to Cherise's office. I was going to leave it on her desk, but she happened to be there. She got really upset with me, and said that…"

            "What did she say?" Bucky asks, leaning closer to Steve with interest, not knowing what's coming. For a moment, he's just assuming that Cherise is still angry with Steve, and that anger had been her response to see him walk into her office unannounced. Steve sighs.

            "What did she say?" Bucky asks again, almost desperately.

            "She said that…you can't even touch her—that I should be happy because of it," Steve admits somewhat uncomfortably, looking away from Bucky's prying eyes.

            "…Seriously, Steve. I feel bad enough as it is that this even happened. Can we _not_ talk about our girlfriends for just one hour?"

            "Okay…but she _did_ like those flowers. I wish you could have seen her face when she saw them," Steve responds, staring off into space for a moment. He doesn't notice Bucky turn his head to stare at him. Bucky thinks to ask Steve why he had _personally_ delivered the flowers, the candy, the note, to her himself. If anything, _none_ of that stuff had been meant for Steve's eyes. Deep down, Bucky had feared that it would upset Steve to see it. He hadn't wanted him to know.

            "Anyway, Natasha has been looking for a bigger house. Wants to move out."

Bucky can hear Steve's tone pick up cheerfully as he begins to talk about the redhead. He thinks to interrupt the Captain; he had just tried to change the subject from women to something else. It's almost as if Steve hadn't even heard him. Bucky just lets him talk.

            "And I want to help her see what's on the market, but I'm not sure I want this to happen yet."

            "…What do you mean? You've been living with her—"

            "Thing is, she wants to move into mine and Reese's—I mean, our house—uh—the old place—where I used to live," Steve explains hastily, correcting himself repeatedly. He had not wanted to put himself in the same sentence as Cherise. He realizes that he's already done it. He scans Bucky's face a moment, looking for any sign of discomfort. Bucky only tips his glass back again, staring ahead blankly.

            "Do what she wants. The woman is always right, isn't she?" Bucky speaks without looking at Steve. Part of him can't bear to. Despite how happy he is to finally have Cherise to himself, he can't help feeling a twinge of anger inside that Steve had actually cheated on her.

            "Yeah…but in this case, I _can't_."

            "Why? For the same reason Cherry didn't want to live in that house with _me_?" Bucky asks. And the men just look at each other knowingly.

 

            By the time that Bucky makes it home, Cherise is lying in bed, trying not to fall asleep. She knows that he had intended to go out with Steve, and would be home later than usual. But she needed him to kiss her and hug her before she fell asleep. She had even refrained from taking another Percocet, just to keep herself up long enough to see Bucky walk through the door. Her wrist aches, but she's happy to see him as she sits up. He seems surprised to see that the lamp is on when he walks into the room. He had expected her to be sleeping, but she sits up, smiling and squinting.

            "Baby? I thought you'd be sleeping," he explains. He steals a glance at the clock. It's only a little past ten. Cherise shakes her head as Bucky begins to take his clothes off, placing them in his hamper before sitting atop the quilt and pushing his hand through Cherise's hair. The next thing he knows, she goes for his neck and starts nipping. He can't help but smile.

            "Oh…someone's not as tired as she looks," he says. When he catches sight of her wrist, he holds her back.

            "Wait," he says quietly before kissing her forehead, "Just let me get a shower and I'll be right back." Bucky kisses her lightly on the lips, and she smells the alcohol there, and knows there's no way that he's drunk. Bucky walks naked out of their room. She hears the shower shortly. Bucky sort of takes his time, standing in front of the mirror to brush his teeth thoroughly after showering. When he makes it back to the bedroom, Cherise has turned off the light and is lying asleep in the dark. At least he doesn't have to worry about having another accident. Bucky smiles and throws on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with her. He makes sure to wrap his flesh arm around her before closing his eyes.

 

            When Cherise accompanies Bucky to the gym where he used to work, she hopes he'll stop making up excuses not to touch her. She tells him for the third time that she's just going to run on the treadmill while he teaches a fitness class for a group of veterans. Bucky had grown close to them while working there, so he would come back once a week or so to converse and exercise with the group. She kisses him, standing upon her toes outside a room with transparent walls. She hopes her running won't distract him while he's in there, as the treadmills are located directly across the way. When she sets up, music in her ears before even starting the machine, she keeps her eyes on the room where Bucky is already smiling and shaking hands with a couple of people. Cherise is glad to see him smile; he always looks so sad when he looks at her wrist, or the bruise on her cheek that is finally beginning to fade.

            Cherise starts to run after a brisk ten-minute walk, half interested in what's on the screen in front of her on the wall. Something red catches in her peripheral vision. She turns slightly to see that a redhead is running on a machine nearby. For seconds too long, she wonders whether it's Natasha. When she gazes back over into the room where Bucky is, she makes out someone that looks like Steve. She's far enough away that not everything is clear, but she could have picked Steve out of a crowd easily. She hadn't realized that he was going to be there, and for a moment, she nearly trips. There's no doubt in her mind then that it is in fact Natasha on the machine nearby. Had Bucky simply forgotten to tell her they would be there? He would have at least told her that Steve was coming, but did he know Natasha was going to tag along, too?

            The women haven’t spoken since the divorce. It doesn't exactly please Cherise to see Natasha there, even though she knows that hers and Steve's divorce had been mutual. Cherise realizes that it shouldn't make her angry to see Natasha, considering how much she loves Bucky, but it _does_. She jacks up the speed a bit higher, until she's really panting to keep up her pace. The increase in noise causes Natasha to glance over at her for a quick half second. Cherise doesn't slow down for a good thirty minutes, at which point, she's drenched in sweat. When she slows down, enough to look over at the redhead again, it only seems to keep her heart rate up. Natasha looks over at Cherise in the same instant, tearing her eyes away just as quickly as she notices Cherise's stare. There's no way this will not end up awkward. Cherise glances over into the transparent room again, waiting for the session to come to an end, so that Bucky might come out and rescue her. She turns the speed up on the machine again, gripping the sensors to find that her heart rate has risen significantly. She wonders what percentage of this is accounted for by Natasha's presence.

            "Hey." Cherise makes out Bucky's voice through her earphones, not having seen him leave the room and start towards her. She slows the machine down to a walk, coughing and reaching for her water bottle after pulling the sweaty buds out of her ears. Bucky leans on the machine.

            "You okay?" he asks with concern. She stops coughing and panting to take a few large gulps of water. She glances past Bucky to see that Steve is making his way towards them, sweat darkening the neck of his t-shirt. The other machine beeps and Cherise listens to the sound of someone walking past behind her. Bucky grips her uninjured wrist and she looks at him again, his shiny finger bringing the incline back down. She hadn't realized that she'd also put that up too. Natasha pulls a water bottle out of Steve's hand and downs half of it. He looks at her and laughs. Cherise turns, her ponytail just missing Bucky's face. She does not want to see Steve look at Natasha like this. She reaches for the towel that was resting in a compartment of her treadmill, dabbing her forehead. Bucky says her name again, and she feels his index and middle fingers pressing into a pounding pulse beneath her skin.

            "You were going _really_ fast," he explains.

            "Was I?" she asks, turning around to flash a smile. She doesn't want Bucky to detect how much it had bothered her to see Natasha and Steve together. Cherise descends the machine, leaning on Bucky's arm a moment to readjust her sock inside her shoe.

            "Hi, Reese." Natasha's raspy voice meets Cherise's ears. She stands and looks over at the redhead.

            "I haven't seen you in…" Natasha shakes her head a moment, letting her hair down. Some of it sticks to her face. Cherise wipes the sweat from her hairline, still catching her breath a little bit. She nods, trying not to let her smile fade. Suddenly, all she wants to do is topple Natasha and pull her hair out strand by strand. Steve's gaze has locked on Cherise, and when she sees him looking at her hopefully, he looks away, not having wanted to get caught. She feels an unwelcomed sting in her chest and grips Bucky's metal hand. She squeezes it much harder than she ever has before, and he looks down at her a moment with concern, before understanding that she's probably extremely uncomfortable. Her wrist aches and she winces, letting go of Bucky's hand to unwrap the bandaging. Bucky's eyes widen when he sees that there's blood on the white material.

            "It's okay," Cherise says hastily, re-wrapping it.

            "What happened?" Natasha asks, staring at it. Cherise's heart races, as if she's still running.

            "Nothing," she says hastily.

            "Well, be careful, it looks like all that running started it up again," Natasha explains. Cherise steals a glance at her. She looks to be genuinely concerned, but it doesn't stop the anger from filling Cherise's heart. Natasha was supposed to be her friend, or something as close to the title as possible. Many times, Cherise has reasoned with herself that Natasha had simply seduced Steve. She'd taken advantage of his capacity to be caring and protective, and it was _her_ fault that their marriage failed.

            "Well, Steve was coming to join James's fit group, so I thought I'd drop by. I've never been to this gym before," Natasha continues, looking about and grinning as if there is nothing wrong with this picture.

            "I'm glad you guys came," Bucky beams.

            "And are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?" Steve asks, looking between Bucky and Cherise.

            "Dinner?" Cherise inquires. Nobody had told _her_ they were going on a double date. Bucky looks a bit regretful for a few seconds when she looks up at him.

            "I mean, unless that's too late for you guys on a Sunday," Steve adds, "We could catch a late lunch instead, after Nat and I go to church." _Church?_ Steve used to take Cherise to church. Cherise looks into Natasha's eyes, trying not to narrow hers. Steve passes a hand down her sweaty arm. It shouldn't be there. No. _Not on her._

            "Cherry, I don't think it should still be bleeding like that," Bucky says at last, unable to stop looking at the wrist she had bandaged again. She pulls it back from him when he attempts to hold her hand, explaining hastily that she has to go to the bathroom. She just can't stand the sight of Natasha and Steve, feeling a strange nausea come on as she rushes for the women's room. Bucky has some explaining to do.


	21. Chapter 21

            In the car, Bucky finally pulls the earphones out of Cherise's ears. She scoffs with irritation before pushing them back in and masking his voice. Bucky realizes how much he hates fighting with her. She hasn't said anything to him since she came back from the restroom at the gym and agreed to going out with Steve and Natasha for lunch the following day. When Bucky pulls open the front door, allowing Cherise inside the house, she doesn't wait to speak to him before starting up the stairs. He sighs and follows her. When he makes it up to their room, he finds that she has already stripped down for a shower. Her nudity distracts him for a moment, and he grabs her by the arm when she tries to breeze  past him.

            "Look, I _didn't know_ Romanoff was gonna be the—"

            "Really?! Because to me, it seems like you knew Steve was coming. You _invited_ him—"

            "I didn't _know_ he'd go out of his way to bring Romanoff," he repeats, releasing Cherise's arm when she tugs.

            "If you're _so_ upset about this, then why did you agree to do lunch with them tomorrow?" he asks, confused by her rage as she traipses to the bathroom. The door closes in his face almost completely before his metal hand makes contact with it. Cherise turns around to look at him from where she stands, ready to turn on the water.

            "Hey, I'm talkin' here," Bucky says impatiently. Cherise glares at him.

            "Excuse me for not wanting to be around that—that—home wrecking little—" Cherise's fists clench. She takes a deep breath.

            "I _only_ agreed to go because I _need_ for you and Steve to be friends," she admits, turning the shower on.

            "What do you mean? We _are_ friends."

Cherise laughs without humor, stepping into the shower and closing the curtain. Bucky makes his way towards it, pulling the curtain back to find that Cherise is covering her face with both hands, clearly crying. He stops himself from opening his mouth to yell at her. Her eyes pop open and she pulls the shower curtain closed again. Bucky feels a pang of guilt in his chest. He had no idea that seeing Steve was going to make Cherise so upset. To the best of his knowledge, Steve had actually seen her the previous day at work, so he'd thought that perhaps things are no longer awkward between them. Bucky had merely invited Steve to the gym to try and show him that he wants to move on with their friendship. He would have told Cherise the night before that Steve planned to come, but she'd fallen asleep before he had the chance.

            He makes his way back to the bedroom and pulls off his sweaty shirt. He stares in the mirror at himself, sighing. _But if she's still so upset about Steve, what does that mean about her feelings for me…?_ This thought displeases Bucky. He hates to have made her unnecessarily upset. He should have told Steve to leave Natasha at home. He paces back and forth, trying to think of the best way to apologize to Cherise. He begins to feel cold from the sweat that had dried on his skin. Cherise screams from the bathroom. Bucky finds himself standing there in the doorway before he knows it. A bottle of rubbing alcohol sits in a puddle on the floor, Cherise holding her wrist over the sink, trembling, dripping wet, and wrapped in a towel. The expression of pain on her face shatters Bucky's soul. He hurries forth where she's trembling, grabbing a hand towel off the rack and wrapping it around her wrist.

            "You shoulda let me do that," he says sweetly, kissing her forehead. Cherise sniffles.

            "Let me see." Bucky peels the towel back. It looks as if Cherise has pulled a stitch.

            "I was just trying to clean it," she explains weakly. Bucky goes into the cabinet for gauze as Cherise leans back against the sink. He wraps her wrist again gingerly, but securely.

            "Maybe the doctor should take another look at it," he explains, "You should have stayed home from work to let it heal, like I told you." Cherise closes her eyes. He remembers that Natasha wants to move into hers and Steve's old house, and hopes that this _isn't_ the reason Steve had suggested a double date for lunch that weekend. Bucky picks up the hand towel to wipe up the spilled rubbing alcohol. Cherise walks past him, thanking him, and leaving him to shower alone. He can tell that she doesn't feel much better, and wonders whether he should ask her if she wants to go to church tomorrow, too.

 

            They stay in and sin instead. As Bucky wakes, the sun streaming a ray of light across his face, the first thing he sees is Cherise resting beside him. The previous night, he had tried to tell her they could just say that something came up and call off lunch with Natasha and Steve, but Cherise wasn't going to let it go. Bucky decided that it was safer not to argue with her. He presses a hand to her back, unable to resist touching her.

            "James," she mumbles after a moment. She opens her eyes and slowly turns to her side to face him.

            "I didn't mean to wake you up," he says gently.

            "Too late," she says, rubbing her eyes.

            "I'm sorry," she continues, yawning, "I shouldn't have been upset with you…about yesterday. I just haven't spoken to her in a long time."

            "I know. And I thought you two were friends. But you weren't wrong. I should have told you that Steve was coming to the gym…I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable to see him—"

            "No," Cherise states, grinning before getting out of bed. She disappears into the hall, and Bucky hears the bathroom door close. He waits there, caressing the spot where she had been resting a few short seconds ago. He knows that it _had_ made her upset to see Steve, or at least to see him with Natasha. The feeling unsettles Bucky. Steve had made his choice, and Cherise agreed to split up with him. _She shouldn't have feelings for him anymore_. Bucky sighs, pushing his hands through his hair and sitting up straight. When he hears Cherise starting back to the bedroom, he thinks to ask her about this troubling thought, but when she walks into the room stark naked, throws the quilt back, and straddles him, he has a feeling that he was just thinking too much.

            "Who the hell needs church when we have Sunday morning sex?" she asks, pressing her lips to Bucky's forehead. Her body is like a torch against him, and when she starts nibbling on his neck, he throws his head back with a groan. He had not expected this at all.

            "…I thought you were pissed at me," he says, closing his eyes as Cherise kisses his chin.

            "Mmm, no," she says quietly, kissing his lips. He feels an awakening beneath his boxers, sliding his arms around Cherise's back to pull her closer to it.

            "Wait," he says, opening his eyes and gazing down at her. Her right hand is resting over his heart. Bucky eyes the gauze he had fixed to her wrist the day before.

            "We probably shouldn't do this. Your wrist might start bleeding again." He pushes a hand through Cherise's hair.

            "I want you to fuck me," she says, attacking his lips again. Bucky finds himself, as usual, unable to resist and the kissing only intensifies, until he's lapping at her tongue hungrily. Cherise pulls around his neck, trying to bring him down upon her, but Bucky pulls her up. He pauses to kiss her and he grins, not wanting her to lose complete control of the situation. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if her wrist never healed because he kept grabbing it by accident.

            "You look beautiful up here," he says, sliding his hands up and down her torso, staring down at the naked body straddling him. Cherise sits up on her knees to start at Bucky's boxers. His cheeks redden as she cocks a brow when he swings out of the fabric, fully erect. Her touch always gets him going so easily. Cherise pulls the boxers down further, Bucky sliding his legs up to throw them off when they meet his ankles. Cherise straddles him again, but she ignores his erection and continues to kiss him up instead. He moans as her body brushes his urgency repeatedly. Cherise smiles against his lips. He squeezes her hips a little bit harder, tacitly begging.

            He realizes that Cherise is torturing herself as much as she's torturing him when he feels a wetness drip into his lap. With his flesh hand, he reaches beneath her, between her legs, and she gasps to find two fingers slipping into her. She pauses in kissing Bucky to throw her head back, clawing into his broad shoulders. He's careful to wiggle his middle and index fingers just enough to stretch her pleasurably. Bucky leans forward, catching Cherise's clavicle between his lips, gliding his tongue across the bone. She trembles in his grasp, tilting her waist further against his kneading fingers.

            "Oh, god," she breathes. Bucky pauses in biting her gently to look down at her face. The eyes are closed euphorically, her lips trembling. He introduces a thumb, brushing relentlessly and repeatedly over Cherise's clit. If she was going to play with him, he intended to play with her.

            "Oh, shit—oh—fuck," she breathes unevenly. She squeals and the noise is music to Bucky's ears as she practically falls back in her orgasm, his metal arm catching her around the shoulders. The mission accomplished, he smiles slyly, allowing her to rest backwards against his legs for a number of seconds, swirling his fingers in circles inside her and watching Cherise lift her hips at his touch. He lowers his head to kiss and suck upon her breasts before pulling his hand out from between her thighs and introducing his throbbing cock. Before Cherise has even caught her breath, Bucky eases into her, settling deeply and pulling her up to meet his gaze. She moans and pants, pressing her forehead to his as he leers down at her.

            He thrusts up between her legs sharply just once, and she gasps, clutching him and trembling from the top of her head down to her toes. Bucky passes his warm hands up and down her back before grabbing a hold of her hips and establishing a gentler, more relaxed rhythm that Cherise quickly eases into, meeting his thrusts, blow by blow, each impact causing them both to moan unrestrained. Bucky enjoys this angle, which seems to create a bit of resistance, making Cherise even tighter.

            She clutches Bucky's handsome face, getting lost in his oceany eyes, basking in the sound of him moaning. He bows his head to rest the fore of it upon hers once more. His features disappear until she can only see his pupils. She smiles, fighting a laugh. They pause in bucking their hips to kiss. He touches her all over, leaving fire everywhere that his fingers roam. Cherise begins to grind against him, until she can't kiss him at the same time because she has to try and catch her breath. She goes faster, beginning to feel that pressure build, like a balloon about to pop. Her orgasm takes her bodily and she can barely hold onto Bucky's shoulders, pulling her hands through her hair and trembling. So he catches her in both of those strong arms, looking on in amazement at the gorgeous moment, the one in which Cherise is the most vulnerable. He feels her clenching inside, which forces him to spill his seed. He groans with finality. Cherise lays against his chest as he slowly descends somewhat, keeping his hands at her back.

            "Okay," she breathes, "Now I could really go for lunch."

He laughs.

 

 

            Cherise is holding Bucky's hand as they walk into a diner to meet Natasha and Steve. It barely fazes Cherise when she sees Steve and Natasha laughing in the booth. Her heart flutters for Bucky, who pulls his arm around her waist.

            "There they are," he says. Cherise had already seen them. Bucky waits for Cherise to sit on their side of the booth before sliding in after her, and she finds herself face to face with Steve. He grins, and she greets him casually, as if it was any other day. Her body is still ringing in the aftermath of hers and Bucky's morning.

            "You guys already order?" Bucky asks, handing a menu to Cherise before opening one to look for himself.

            "Nah. We were waiting for you," Steve explains.

            "I'm sorry we were…late," he says, turning to look at Cherise, whose cheeks flush a moment, even more when Bucky winks at her. They had gone on a second and third round of sex before making it out of the house. Steve looks between the two of them a moment, and Cherise swears she sees a hint of embarrassment or discomfort flash in his eyes. She isn't really sure which one. But Bucky doesn't seem to care whether Steve and Natasha know what they were doing for the greater half of the day. Natasha just cocks a brow before sending a gaze Cherise's way.

            "You two left the gym in a hurry yesterday," she says, "I didn't really get a chance to catch up with you, Reese."

            "Yeah," is all that Cherise can manage, pulling open her menu. Bucky habitually snakes an arm around her lower back, clutching her hip in an attempt to keep her calm.

            "I dunno, the BLT sounds good, but I'm kind of in the mood for a…steak…burger?" Bucky goes on. He pauses to gaze down at Cherise. She smiles at him shyly.

            "Whatever you want, James," she says, cupping his knee a moment under the table.

            "You guys do anything special last night?" Steve asks, wanting to include himself and Natasha in their conversation. Cherise had damn near forgotten that they were there.

            "Uh, not really. Gym took it out of us for the day," Bucky explains, scanning his menu again. In truth, all they'd done was fight and sit around moping in separate rooms.

            "Cher, they've got roast beef," Steve says, looking over his menu at her across the table. Bucky pauses to look at Steve.

            "Just thought you'd want to know," Steve adds.

            "Yeah, I just saw it. That's what I was going to order," she explains with a small smile.

            "Well, there you go," Steve finishes, trying to decide between sandwiches. Natasha sits quietly beside Steve, staring down at her menu.

            "Yeah, I'm getting a BLT," Bucky finishes, putting the menu down. He kisses Cherise atop the head, relieved when Steve's eyes don't bother to flash his way.

            "You beat me to it," Steve grins, folding his menu closed. A waitress comes by and they place their orders, making small talk about the past week and the one to come. Steve goes out of his way to try and get Cherise to talk about what she does in the labs these days. Part of her really wishes that he would have just kept quiet. She doesn’t want to accidentally start talking about how he always seems to end up in her office, despite them not even working in the same department. When everyone is just about done eating, Natasha brings up something that takes Cherise by complete surprise.

            "You guys will probably be seeing a lot more of us. Steve and I are going to be your neighbors soon," she beams.

            "Hmm?" Cherise mumbles, sipping her smoothie. Bucky's stomach clenches uncomfortably. He wraps his arm around Cherise's waist again, knowing what's coming.

Natasha gazes up at Steve, whose eyes have closed for a few seconds, for some reason. Cherise thinks that perhaps Natasha had wanted him to say something. Bucky sends a look Steve's way as soon as his eyes open again.

            "I just—maybe this is a bad time to tell them," Steve says quietly, gazing down at Natasha.

            "Why?" she asks, "We're all here."

            "Wait, what's going on? You guys are moving to our street?" Cherise asks. Bucky gazes out the window, wishing that Natasha hadn't said anything.

            "We're moving into number thirty-one, the one two houses down from you guys, on the other side of the st—"

            "Our old house," Cherise interrupts. Her tone is somewhat surprised. Natasha nods.

            "Yeah…that's the one." She gazes over at Cherise somewhat intently, waiting for a response. Bucky squeezes Cherise's hip and she looks up at him, noting his tacit attempt to tell her to stay calm. Steve is staring at Cherise as well, hoping this news won't break her heart. He had been trying to find a way to convince Natasha not to move into his and Cherise's old place, but Natasha had not seen the economic efficiency of purchasing a completely new home where the mortgage is not _already_ paid off. Steve had not been able to explain to her that Cherise wouldn't take that house simply because she couldn't live in it with Bucky, but he had given it to her in their divorce because he knew how much her very first home had meant to her. Steve hadn't wanted to take that away from her.

            "You know something—I actually _completely_ forgot that there were some samples I wanted to test today—in the lab. I know it's a Sunday," Cherise explains, starting up. Bucky stands out of the booth to let her out, still expressing disappointment that she wants to leave so soon.

            "I know it's a Sunday, but that's usually the best time to do some things, while no one else is around to distract me. But it was nice seeing you guys," she explains, turning on her heels. Bucky calls after her, apologizing to both Natasha and Steve, throwing down cash for his and Cherise's meals. He hurries after her to the car, only to find on his way out the door, that Steve is already looking out the window at her rather remorsefully. Cherise sits in the car waiting by the time that Bucky gets in.

            "I know you're not about to go to work right now. It's about the house, isn't it?" he asks, starting the car. Cherise crosses her arms and closes her eyes. Bucky sighs, the car beeping because his passenger has neglected to fasten her seatbelt. He pauses at a red light and reaches across to secure Cherise's belt, stopping the annoying noise. She doesn't open her eyes once as he does this.

            "You don't want her living in your house, do you?" Bucky asks.

            "I just want to go home," she finally says.

 

            "If you want the house so bad, why don't we just move in there—?"

            "Because, it doesn't _work_ like that, James," Cherise explains impatiently, pulling off her fall jacket and hanging it on the rack.

            "Is this about Steve?" he asks, placing both his hands on her hips, "Is it because you can't stop thinking about him?"

            "It's _more_ than Steve, James. I just don't want her living in my house. If it weren't for her, maybe things would have gone differently," she says angrily, turning away, but a tear drips out of her eye. Bucky wipes it with his thumb.

            "…You mean you'd still be married to Steve," he says. She turns to him with clenched brows.

            "…I'm sorry, Bucky. I didn't mean—"

            "Yeah, you did," he says with the slightest grin, a grin that is only there to hide his pain.

            "James, I love _you_ ," she explains, grabbing his arms when his hands leave her waist. He doesn't look at her when he speaks.

            "No. I get it. I believe that you have feelings for me…but I also believe that you still have feelings for him."

Bucky starts for the door, feeling Cherise's hand tug at the back of his jacket.

            "James, _come on_ ," she breathes. He pulls away gently before getting back into the car and driving off. She sighs, knowing that she had hurt him. She hadn't _meant_ to. Maybe there is still some anger deep inside of her, anger towards both Steve and Natasha, two people she should have been able to trust. She finds herself alone again, and hates it. Bucky hadn't even tried to argue with her, he just took off. Perhaps it's for the better. She doesn't like fighting with him, not when he usually makes her feel so wanted and loved. She makes a frustrated noise, slamming the front door. Bob races down the stairs to see her, and she sits on the landing, petting him a while.

            "You want to go for a walk?" she asks, cupping the lab's face. His tail wags at the word. On her way out the door, Cherise makes sure to bring her keys and cell phone. Bucky has been gone for all of fifteen minutes, and already she misses him to death. Cherise starts down the block, and doesn't make it too far before landing in front of hers and Steve's place. She feels around for the keys in her pocket, realizing she hadn't stowed away the key to this house. She simply hasn't been inside since moving her stuff out to live with Bucky. Bob sits at her side and she stares down at him a moment before making up her mind and walking towards the house. She opens the door, the scent familiar.

            Cherise dislikes the echoes that greet her and Bob as she closes the door. It feels so empty now, not like a home. As Cherise wanders into the kitchen, she finds all of these memories coming back to her. She tries to block them, but as she leans against the counter, they don't go away. But one memory is particularly vivid and makes her happy, the one where her dress had caught on fire in this room, and Bucky grabbed her to pat it out. She finds herself smiling with watery eyes. She knows how much he cares for her. She regrets the little tiff that had taken place about half an hour prior. She sighs, running the sink for no apparent reason, placing her hands under the water, and letting the memory of Bucky patting her dress flood her mind.

            "Reese?" Cherise nearly jumps out of her skin when her name rolls off of Steve's tongue. She turns around, clutching her chest.

            "Jesus _Christ_ , Steve…you scared the shit out of me," she says. For a moment, she wonders whether her brain had taken her further into her memories than she realized.

            "Is that really you?" she asks. Steve sends her an odd gaze, and when he comes closer, she realizes that his eyes are somewhat red, as if he has been crying.

            "…Steve, are you okay?" she asks quietly. He sighs.

            "I'm sorry. I tried to tell her you would hate it if we lived here."

She knows that he's talking about Natasha.

            "But we've seen at _least_ a dozen houses now, and she only wants this one," he explains.

            "Steve—"

            "And when I thought about living here with her…it finally made sense to me, why you couldn’t stay. I can't do it with her, either. I'll just be thinking about—" The Captain closes his mouth, eying Cherise rather blatantly. She smiles as best she can, but finds herself wanting to scream at him.

            "Why are you here?" he asks, getting a little bit closer.

            "I should ask you the same."

            "Natasha and I…well, we had a fight. Shortly after you left, I tried to explain to her exactly why we can't move in here. She said that it's probably because I still have feelings for you." This is exactly what Bucky had said to Cherise. Her flesh heats uncomfortably.

            "I'm sorry," she says.

            "It's not your fault," he says, "I just came here to think."

            "So did I."

            "Truth is…as soon as I walked in here, I started thinking about us—"

            "Steve—"

            "About all those nights that you spent falling asleep alone because I put my job before you. That wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry. God, Reese, I'm _really_ sorry. I was a terrible husband." This does Cherise in and her lip trembles. She wipes her eyes hastily, smiling at the Captain.

            "No, you weren't…Our worlds are just too different."

            "No. I should have been around more…we would still be together if I just _stopped_ putting my work before you. I understand now. And I don't blame you for falling in love with Bucky behind my back. You deserve someone…who can spend _time_ with you." Cherise wipes her eyes. It surprises her when she feels Steve clasp her waist. She looks up to him with wide eyes.

            "And I haven't stopped loving you, Reese. Even when I'm with her."

At this point, he has pressed her to the counter, and his warmth rolls off on her in frustrated waves. Cherise can't catch her breath, and her voice is so weak when she speaks, but she knows that the Captain hears her.

            "…You can't touch me like this anymore."

She tugs at his hands, but they don't budge. She closes her eyes, feeling his lips rest on her forehead. _Oh no…if he doesn't stop…_

            "…Damn it, Steve—I mean it!" She pushes at his chest once, twice, until he straight up sits her on the counter top, making his way between her knees. Their kiss is like a bomb detonating, and Cherise grips the back of Steve's neck with trembling hands.

            "You abandoned me," she says quietly, when he eases up to let her breathe. He's looking at her apologetically as she caresses his beautiful face.

            "I did." He doesn't deny it.

            "I'll always love you, Steve…but you _know_ we can't make it work…we tried."

He sighs with disappointment, but is still completely knowing as she pushes back on him. He lets her off the countertop.

            "If Natasha wants this house, tell her to take good care of it, okay?"

Steve passes a hand down her arm distractedly, and for a moment, she wonders whether he was actually listening. She walks towards the kitchen door, calling for Bob. On her way out, she feels as if she's walking away from a weight of pain, one that gradually lifts, the longer that she's walking with Bob. Before Cherise knows it, it's dark and she's still walking the dog. She finally glances at her phone to check the time, finding that she had put the device on silent. Bucky has been calling and texting her for half an hour. Cherise curses to herself before picking up the phone to call him. It only rings halfway once before he picks it up.

            "I came home and you weren't there. Where are you?" he asks, and she can hear the worry in his voice.

            "I don't know. I took Bob for a walk and now I'm kind of lost…Can you come get me?"

            "Don't move," he says, and she knows that he's already leaving their house. In that moment, Cherise feels nothing less than loved.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a blizzard today.

             Cherise pulls her fall jacket tighter around her shoulders, continuing to rub Bob where he rests against her feet on the pavement. She's sitting on the sidewalk, and soon a bright light is in her eyes as a car comes to a stop near the curb. Bob stands up, barking, ready to defend her. Cherise finds herself thankful that the dog's collar has a tracking device. She'd literally lost herself, walking beyond the neighborhood into territory she had never explored before. Seeing Steve so suddenly, the things he had said, they just threw her off.

            "Oh my god," Bucky states with relief, jumping out of his car and not bothering to turn off the engine.

            "I thought something happened to you. I was calling and texting…" Cherise stands, releasing Bob's leash. Upon hearing Bucky's voice, the lab stops barking. Cherise opens her mouth to say something, but finds herself wrapped up tightly in Bucky's arms before she can make a peep.

            "That was a stupid fight," he explains, practically pulling Cherise off her feet. She finds herself smiling.

            "I was an asshole. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked out like that."

The next thing he does is kiss her. Butterflies flutter inside Cherise's stomach. Shortly, she sighs into Bucky's mouth. The sound of Bob running into the car distracts the couple momentarily.

            "It's _freezing_ out here, honey. You shouldn't have walked for so long," Bucky adds, cupping her cheek and scanning her face, the skin flushed from the cold.

            "I'm fine," she promises, but even her voice shivers. Bucky kisses her forehead firmly with warm lips.

            "Let's go home," he says. His metallic hand clasping her own, the fingers lacing, feels as normal as any other sensation that Cherise has ever experienced. Bucky leads her to the passenger's side, shooing Bob into the back seat. She sits inside and he closes the door before rushing around to get in. The heat is on, to Cherise's relief. She reaches for Bucky's flesh hand after he makes a three-point turn and starts back the way he came. He glances over at her for a moment.

            "Are you okay?" he asks. She feels tired from having walked for so long. Cherise sighs and rests her head back in the seat. Bucky kisses her hand.

            "I was such an asshole," he admits again.

            "You're not an asshole," she explains, turning to look at him.

            "I didn't mean what I said. I know that you were just upset about that house. I know how  much it means to you, and if you can't be friends with Natasha anymore, I'll tell Steve—"

            "James…I'm ready to let it all go," she explains, feeling a pang in her heart for the Captain. She has a feeling that no matter how much she loves Bucky, this feeling will always be there.

            "I told him that they can have the house, so long as they take good care of it," she continues. Bucky kisses the back of her hand again, pausing at a stop sign a moment.

            "Are you sure?" he asks, unable to believe what he's hearing. He had seen how upset she had been about the house, even though Steve had given it to her in their divorce. She nods.

            "All I care about is that you're happy," Bucky says. Cherise's heart beats rapidly, and she holds his hand tighter.

            "I love you, Cherise."

                                                                                                                                          

            They crash down into bed as soon as they make it home. Cherise finds herself unable to stop moaning beneath Bucky's strength. Despite his body being enormous, he's gentle in every way, and it reminds Cherise of the countless times that Steve had made love to her like this. Earlier that day, they'd both been wild and unrestrained, but despite her aching thighs, the pleasure settles in. Bucky had worshipped her from head to toe, kissed his way up her shins, everywhere he could reach. They stop only when they're too hungry and too thirsty to continue. They eat leftovers from the previous night's dinner and watch movies on TV, Bucky having finally convinced Cherise to stay home and let her wrist heal some more. Despite this, he makes his way to work the following day.

            When Cherise takes Bob for his walk, she pauses across the street from hers and Steve's old place. She only stands and stares for a few minutes, telling herself that she will not go there. She returns to hers and Bucky's house an hour and a half later, feeding Bob, thumbing through the mail, shredding the junk, making herself something to eat. She takes another painkiller for her wrist before falling asleep on the couch a little past four in the afternoon, and awakens to the sensation of floating. Without having to open her eyes all the way, she can tell that Bucky is carrying her up the stairs. She opens an eye halfway to steal a glance at him, his chestnut hair falling out of place from where he had gelled it back that morning. He's a beautiful man. She had even thought so when she met him for the first time, despite having been apprehensive about him. She finds herself staring.

            She closes her eyes again, turning her face against his chest. He moves quietly and slowly at the top of the stairs, walking down the hall to their room. He places her gently in bed, folding the quilt neatly across her shoulders. Cherise hears him sigh and feels the pressure of the bed shifting where he sits near her. She can hear buttons unbuttoning, a belt buckle unbuckling, the sound of Bucky undressing. The pressure leaves the bed and she listens to him walk quietly about the dimness, pulling open drawers. He pauses at the door to kiss her on the forehead lingeringly before disappearing down the stairs. It isn't long before she can smell the food that she had cooked heating up. Cherise had had all day to think about what Steve had said to her the previous day, the way that he kissed her. It left her feeling sorry and sad. She doesn't want it to make her feel so, considering how much stronger hers and Bucky's relationship has grown. He seems to love her in all of the ways that Steve had…does.

            On her day off thinking, Cherise had reasoned with herself that she would _try_ and be friends with Natasha, if only to remain friends with Steve. When he spoke to her last, she could feel how much she still meant to him. Her heart couldn't have withstood further fighting and anger. As she drifts off to sleep again, she thinks that perhaps she and the Captain are only meant for one another in a different lifetime.

 

            When Wednesday rolls around, Cherise's wrist feels more functional. She makes it to work past noon, after having a follow-up appointment with a doctor. She makes her way to the elevator, hastily rummaging through her bag for the pack of peppermint gum she swears she just bought, sighing with irritation and jabbing the button that opens the doors that are just about to close. She steps inside, not even looking up from her bag to try and find the gum. She'd forgotten to brush her teeth this morning. She grumbles to herself, pushing a hand through her hair.

            "Tenth floor?" Steve's voice is a shock to her when she finally realizes that she's not alone in the elevator. Before she can answer, he presses the button. Cherise tucks hair behind her ear nervously. It's only extremely awkward to be around him at this point. And of course Steve knows what floor her office is on. He's always in there. He's wearing normal office attire, and she wonders for a moment whether he's going out on any missions today. They are quiet for a number of seconds. She really isn't sure what to say to him.

            "Reese," Steve finally begins, "About the other day—"

The elevator opens and three men step in, immediately chatting the Captain up. Cherise finds that she is relieved for this. When the elevator stops on the seventh floor, she rushes out of it before anyone else can get in or out. She takes the stairs the rest of the way to her office. She doesn't believe that she can truly move on if she has to see her ex-husband every day. It had been awkward enough to sit through lunch with him and Natasha. She doesn't want to be around Steve without Bucky. She knows that there's still a part of her that had _wanted_ to kiss Steve those few days ago, and she doesn't want to end up cheating on Bucky, _too_. On the ninth floor, she finally stops in the stairwell, dropping her bag and sitting there to cry helplessly. She spends all of two minutes there before someone starts down. Cherise stands up straight and begins wiping her eyes hastily. How pathetic she must have looked sitting in the stairwell moping.

            "Cherise?" Natasha's raspy voice meets her ears. She whips around to find the redhead at the top of the stairs, tight black suit already donned. She tries not to feel intimidated as the redhead slowly makes her way down the stairs to meet her.

            "Everything okay?" Natasha asks, crossing her arms. Cherise eyes the gun in her utility belt and for a moment wonders whether she could be fast enough to grab it and shoot Natasha point blank.

            "Do I look okay?" Cherise asks more defensively than she had intended. Natasha drops her arms to her sides.

            "Look, Steve told me that you said we could have the house after all. And he also told me why you don't want us to have the house. I just hope that you know…I don't want to make things any more uncomfortable for either of us than they have to be…I miss being able to talk to you," Natasha admits. Cherise is surprised. Natasha doesn't usually show so much emotion, or at least it seemed that way to her.

            "Is everything okay with you and James? If he's the reason you're crying, just say the word and I'll—"

            "No," Cherise interrupts, fighting a smile that shows itself anyway, "Bucky's…amazing," she breathes, closing her eyes a moment and reminiscing the other night with him. Natasha breaks the silence.

            "Listen, believe it or not, I know what it's like to lose everything. If you really don't want me moving into that house—"

            "I just want to put _all_ of this behind me," Cherise admits, shaking her head.

            "If you'll cherish that house, if you'll make it a home, then you and Steve can have it."

            "…Are you sure? We would be right next door."

            "I know. I feel like we were never really friends, but…I think I want to be. Because despite everything that has happened between Steve and I, I still care about him. And he still cares about me. And there's no way that our paths won't occasionally cross if you stay with him." Natasha tilts her head to the side, a look of sincerity on her face.

            "When you came to my wedding, I really felt like we were friends. I want it to feel that way again." In moments of wrath, Cherise had considered telling Natasha that Steve had kissed her that weekend. She had wanted to hurt Natasha, who, as she stands before her now, looks only harmless and concerned. Cherise grins weakly and starts past Natasha. She's surprised when she feels a hand clutch her wrist.

            "I knew that James was in love with you before all of this happened," she says, "I knew so from the moment he watched you walk down that aisle to marry his best friend." Cherise only stands there a moment longer, not bothering to look back, before Natasha releases her. She continues up the stairs and to her office. _How would Natasha have known how Bucky felt?_ She thinks back to her wedding night, wondering then whether Natasha and Bucky had gone back to his place, or hers, and the thought makes her sick. She checks her phone once making it into her office to find that Bucky has texted her. _Eight hours away from you_. She smiles, grabbing a tissue off her desk. He tends to text her sweet little things like that, things that make her feel so wanted and needed. Cherise gradually forgets that she had run into Steve in the elevator.

            But he doesn't stay out of her mind for long. When Cherise goes back to her office at the end of the day to get ready to go home, someone knocks shortly before she reaches for her jacket.

            "Come in," she calls, expecting to see one of her colleagues from the lab. Steve walks in, closing the door after himself. Her heart skips a beat. She had not wanted to run into him again for at least a little while. The last time they were alone, they ended up kissing. All that Cherise had wanted to do was go straight home to Bucky without losing her train of thought.

            "I know you probably don't want to see me—just let me say something," Steve explains, making his way right up to Cherise.

            "I screwed up, _again_. I know that…I don’t know what to do sometimes these days. I still think about you, but Nat and I are happy." Cherise wonders then whether she had told Steve about their little conversation in the stairwell that morning.

            "I guess that it took me by surprise to find you at our house the other day. But even before I saw you there, as soon as I walked through the door…" he shakes his head slowly, staring into space. Cherise tilts her head to the side. Steve focuses on her again.

            "All these emotions just…took control of me, so, I'm sorry I kissed you."

She finds it hard to meet his gaze. There's something so delicately sweet in this confession.

            "I know. It was hard for me to go back there, too. I don’t know why I did. I was just walking the dog and…" Cherise shrugs.

            "And I never wanted to rush all of this on you, but I'd really like it if we could still be friends. I think we've been better friends to each other rather than spouses, and I trust you with my life, Cherise." She beams at these words. Without knowing how to respond, she decides to show him instead with a hug that forces Steve to close his eyes and revel in it. He holds onto her a handful of seconds before her phone vibrates in her back pocket.

            "Oh. Sorry," she breathes.

            "It's fine."

Cherise isn’t surprised to find that Bucky is calling her, probably wondering what's taking her so long to get home. She still hasn't gotten used to this reversal of the situation; she had always been the one calling Steve to find out when he would get home. She smiles.

            "I, uhm—"

            "It's past five. What are you still doing here?" he asks. Cherise laughs lightly and the Captain smiles. She throws her jacket on and he makes sure to lock her office door after turning out the lights. She hadn't thought she would have been able to feel normal walking next to Steve, talking to him, as she would have any other friend. As they wait for the elevator, she finds herself laughing at a story that he's told her before. It feels like old times, and everything is suddenly fine.

 

            Bucky even helps Steve and Natasha move into the house. Cherise had helped Natasha to pack all of her clothes (of which she owned much more than Steve). It isn't too awkward for Cherise when she carries things that don't belong to her into her old house. By the end of the day, both Steve and Bucky have done all of the heavy lifting, having refused to let the women lift a real finger, something Natasha appeared to take some genuine offense to. They find themselves settling with takeout and wine in the living room. Bucky's arm is slung across Cherise's shoulders, even as he continues to argue with Steve about something car related. When Cherise yawns and rests her head against Bucky's shoulder, he asks her whether she'd like to go home.

            "Wait, so soon?" Natasha asks, standing at the same time that Bucky and Cherise do. The redhead eyes Steve, tacitly telling him something. His eyes widen a bit as he walks across the room to stand beside her.

            "We wanted to thank you guys for helping us move in," Steve repeats.

            "Like we said, no problem. Although it was you and me who did most of the work," Bucky grins, cocking an eyebrow.

            "There's something _else_ we wanted to ask you guys," Natasha begins.

            "Oh no, don't tell me there's a whole other warehouse full of yoga pants and dresses that need to be moved in here," Bucky jokes. Cherise laughs genuinely, leaning against him. Steve smiles down at Natasha, whose cheeks redden.

            "Tell them," she says, gazing back up at him. Cherise and Bucky exchange confused glances.

            "I thought _you_ wanted to," Steve states, pulling an arm around her waist.

            "Well, why don't we just ask them at the same time?" Natasha asks, cocking a flaming brow.

            "Guys, what the hell is it?" Bucky asks, losing patience and shrugging.

            "We wanted to know how you two would feel about being godparents," Steve states. The room is silent for a moment, and it's a few seconds before Cherise connects the dots.

            "Wait… _you_ didn't have any champagne," Bucky states, pointing at Natasha with wide eyes. She buries her face shyly into Steve's chest.

            "Steve," Bucky breathes in disbelief, a smile gradually forming on his face.

            "We trust and love you guys more than anyone else we know," Steve admits. Natasha eyes Cherise carefully. Steve continues, "We wanted to ask Sam and Kate—they're great—but we haven't known them as long as we've known you two."

            "You'll never know how much it means to me that you gave me this house," Natasha adds, reaching for Cherise's elbow. She had merely been shocked, but as she stares up at Bucky, who stares down at her, she doesn't feel so sad to hear this news, just surprised.

            "So, will you guys be our kid's godparents? Uncle Bucky and Auntie Reese?" Natasha asks again. She and Steve appear to be holding their breath. Natasha's grip becomes more salient as Cherise glances down at her elbow, having forgotten that Natasha's hand was even there.

            "We would be honored," she says, unable to believe that things like this are already happening. She realizes then why Natasha had been looking for a new house. When Cherise reads the joy in Steve's eyes as he looks at her, it no longer hurts to see him with Natasha. The redhead hugs her appreciatively and everyone exchanges embraces and congratulations.

            "Didn't I tell you you'd be a kickass dad someday?" Bucky grins, gripping Steve's shoulder. When Cherise and Bucky walk a short ways down the street, Bucky finds her quieter than he would have liked.

            "Are you okay with this?" he asks, stopping right before their front steps, gripping her by the waist. Cherise smiles, closing her eyes.

            "…Yeah. Yeah. I just think that this is all happening _so_ fast," she admits.

            "If you don't want to be their kid's—"

            "No, Bucky, I do," she admits, squeezing his wrist.

            "Okay. Then it looks like we're going to have a little niece or nephew pretty soon. I guess that's…kind of exciting." She finds Bucky smiling. They stand there in the chilly night, staring at each other for a while.

            "Maybe this is a good thing, Cherry. We'll get practice for when we have ours."

Her stomach fills with butterflies.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I apologize to everyone whose feelings got hurt in the making of this story. I actually hurt myself, too, if it makes you feel any better. And that is why I decided to give this a happily-ever-after ending, next chapter will be the last. I was going to do something a bit different which would have left it bittersweet, but I wussed out so no one is going to get killed off. My musical muse behind this one is Sigur Rós - Fjögur Píanó.

Three Years Later

 

            As she slowly awakens on the couch one Sunday afternoon, Bucky's heart beating rhythmically beneath her ear, Cherise remembers the night that they came home after Natasha and Steve asked her and Bucky to be their child's godparents. She smiles, lifting her head to gaze down at the sleeping man. That night was special because Cherise had finally been able to turn a new page in the book with her life. It had felt right to be loved so much that Steve would trust her with his child's life. It had meant so much to her that Steve had also continued to trust Bucky as much.

            As time had gone on, things became less full of regret and guilt, and more full of happiness and love. Cherise wasn't exactly surprised that Steve never stopped working when Natasha finally took maternity leave. During those last few months, Cherise had wondered how Natasha could deal with that. However, she did, and Steve continued to do his job, up until the day that Natasha gave birth. Natasha had joined Cherise while she was walking Bob one afternoon in the summer and her water broke. Cherise called Bucky's cell phone, and the couple drove the redhead to the hospital. Luckily, they hadn't been too far from their houses when Natasha realized it was time, and Steve was only dealing with paperwork in his office when Natasha called him on the ride to the hospital.

            They had welcomed James Steven Alexei Rogers into the world that night, the five of them a family all their own. Bucky was shocked—yet no less honored— to find that Steve named his son after him, seeing as Steve was convinced the entire time that he was going to have a daughter. Neither Steve nor Natasha wanted to know their child's sex. They wanted it to be a surprise. When Cherise held the child, Bucky's gaze never left her, and something changed in his heart at that moment, something deeper than he had ever thought possible. If he thought that he loved Cherise before, he hadn't known the gravity of the feeling until that moment. He could see himself and Cherise in Natasha and Steve's places.

            Cherise had looked down into James's eyes, the same eyes as the Captain's, and she had fallen in love. All she'd felt was joy to be in that moment, to hold the tiny bundle of warmth against her chest, the way his miniature hands gripped around her fingers causing her to smile to a point of aching cheek. That day had been such a miracle, and later that night, it hadn't surprised Cherise that Bucky started to talk about children, things they should have to complete their lives. Cherise quickly noted, shortly after Natasha and Steve moved in next door, that hers and Bucky's home had too much empty space. But she wasn't ready to take on parenthood just yet. It was still _a lot_ to handle while having gone through a divorce, starting a new job, starting a new relationship. She had wanted to feel anchored, and it wasn't until the night that she and Bucky met little James that Bucky seriously started talking about their future together.

            They hadn't wasted too much time making wedding plans, pulling it all together much faster than Cherise and Steve had. They were married only a month after Steve and Natasha's son was born. Nothing had ever felt more right and so un-rushed when Cherise slipped a ring onto Bucky's metallic finger. He had been so nervous about this aspect, but thanks to Tony, the ring was made compatible with the material of Bucky's prosthetic. They spent many nights having dinner at Steve's and Natasha's, switching off every other week, until it became so normal as for Cherise and Bucky to walk next door on the weekends and beg to take James to the park or to the mall to buy more shoes for his ever-growing feet. Bucky and Cherise quickly became attached to the child, watching him grow, watching him start to walk, to speak. When the boy reached a little over a year old, they started trying to have their own.

            Things seemed like they were supposed to be really simple, but when three months went by and Cherise continued to find herself not pregnant, she and Bucky started to worry. She went to the doctor, only to be told that there was nothing physically wrong. So Bucky made the same move and was told that he was perfectly healthy, but when _another_ three months went by and Cherise stayed the same, they started to worry even more. She had grown visibly disheartened, which made Bucky feel even worse. He wanted for them both to find the same joy that had blessed Steve and Natasha. He finally started to talk to Steve about their problem—of course without telling Cherise. She didn't want to bring their worst difficulties down upon their friends. So Steve had suggested that the couple go to church more often. Maybe a prayer or two would do the trick. Cherise and Bucky started going every Sunday, James walking and talking by that time, standing between his parents in the pew.

            It only upset Cherise even more when Kate and Sam announced that they were having a kid. Sam had taken the last three months of agent Kate's pregnancy off to take care of her. Meanwhile, Cherise and Bucky were _still_ trying with what seemed like futility by the time their third anniversary rolled around. She wasn't sure what to do; she was only in her early thirties, and despite Bucky being a centenarian, his body looked and functioned like that of a vicenarian. He had started to talk to her, somewhat reluctantly due to how upsetting things were becoming, about getting help artificially, which only ended up in failure, anyway. Cherise didn't like feeling broken, didn't like that sex had become like somewhat of a chore, and Bucky didn't like that sex was feeling more like a mission he just couldn't complete, for reasons neither of them could understand.

            One Sunday morning in church, Cherise had wondered whether God was still punishing her for the way that hers and Steve's marriage had gone. She found herself starting to cry where she sat, until Bucky looked over at her and whispered into her ear to ask what was wrong. Before she could answer, little James crawled his way out from between Steve and Natasha to sit in Cherise's lap and wipe her tears. Cherise had smiled and held him, his little kisses soothing her pain bit by bit. When the sermon was over, little James begged to go to lunch at Auntie Reese's and Uncle Bucky's, because he wanted to make sure that Aunty Reese was okay. Natasha had pulled Cherise aside to ask her what was wrong before agreeing to let the boy go with them. Natasha and Steve ended up asking Cherise and Bucky to take care of James for a few days; they wanted some time to catch up with each other without having to run around after the boy.

            And it is in this moment that Cherise is still staring down at Bucky, who is probably still exhausted from running laps around the yard with James. They had dropped by Steve's and Natasha's after church to grab some of James's clothes and things for school. They ended up planning to keep him over at theirs until Friday, while Steve and Natasha took off last minute to Puerto Rico for an impromptu vacation disguised as a "mission." Cherise and Bucky found it convenient that they had already set up a room ever since they started trying to have their own baby. But Bucky ended up having to run out to get a normal child-sized mattress in place of the crib they had assembled, which was beginning to grow dusty and lonely where it sat in the cream-walled room. While Cherise played a card game with James, Bucky set up the bed, the sheets, and even hung James's clothes up in the closet. After a bath, the boy talked to them while brushing his teeth until he couldn't keep his eyes open. Cherise hadn't been able to stop marveling at how much he resembled a mash of Steve and Natasha. There was no doubt he was their son.

            Cherise had stood in the doorway to watch Bucky cautiously tuck a quilt around James, caress his hair, turn on a little night light, pull the curtain closed. They had closed the door only after staring at him for a handful of seconds…As Cherise continues to stare down at her husband on the couch, she feels a sense of gratitude for that day, that small window of time during which the little boy felt a sense of concern and crawled his way into her lap. She remembers Bucky saying that Steve's and Natasha's kid would be good practice for them, and for a moment, it doesn't bother her that they have stopped trying for a while.

            Bucky's metal arm rests heavily across her lower back, the flesh one across her shoulders lazily. She can't resist kissing his cleft, lingering there until he takes a large inhale, his chest flush against hers, and his electric gaze fluttering open. He smiles wearily.

            "Hello," he says, pushing his flesh hand through Cherise's hair. His arm purrs. It hasn't acted up in a long time (thanks to Tony's monthly inspections), but it still purrs when Cherise finds herself near Bucky. Even after all this time, she hasn't told him that it makes this noise when he touches her, and she's still sure that he never even notices.

            "Is James still sleeping?" he asks, sitting up. Cherise nods, yawning. Bucky laughs.

            "It seems to me like that boy gets more energy every year," he admits, kissing her forehead repetitively for a moment.

            "What time is it?"

            "A little past nine," Cherise breathes, Bucky having pulled her into a warm hug. He yawns dramatically, the sound reverberating through Cherise's body.

            "Want to go to bed?" he asks, throwing his legs over the couch until Cherise ends up sitting on his lap. She reaches for the remote control to turn the TV off, nodding.

            "I'm exhausted. And I want to make sure we're on time dropping him at school in the morning," Bucky adds. They had planned to drive him together. It will be their first time taking him to school, and afterwards, Bucky will drop Cherise at work and then go to work himself. Neither of them have admitted to each other just yet that this week may be their only chance at getting a taste of what having their own child would ever be like. Bucky begins to follow Cherise up the stairs, the dishwasher still running in the kitchen. He pauses to go and make sure the front door is locked, turn off all the lights. By the time Cherise makes it up to their room, she has already taken off her shirt, ready to throw it in the hamper.

            She flicks on the light in hers and Bucky's room, and the crib that they had assembled over a year ago sits by the window, not far from the bed. Cherise stops in her tracks just to stare at it. A sense of despair begins to fill her slowly, despite knowing that down the hall next door sleeps a little boy that loves her and Bucky dearly. She takes a few more steps, until she's able to touch the crib. Many times, she has imagined putting her own baby to sleep there, but the dream seems to have evaded her, the longer that she and Bucky failed. Cherise is torn from her thoughts only when she feels a warm breeze at the back of her neck, and gasps. Bucky's arms close around her habitually. He never ceases to surprise her like that, his signature move, but it still sends shivers down her spine. She grips his wrists a moment before sniffling and wiping her eyes.

            "Oh," Bucky starts regretfully, wishing he had just put the stupid crib in another empty room. He can tell without seeing Cherise's face that she's crying.

            "I'm sorry, baby," he says quietly, "I shouldn't have put that in here." He grips her a little bit tighter, kisses the top of her head.

            "No," she breathes, "I just haven't seen it in…" Two months ago, Cherise had stopped going into that room they set up. She hadn't even been the one to show little James where he would be staying for the week. Bucky had done all of that, and she hadn't even realized that he had picked the room which was meant for their child when they tucked James into bed. Cherise had assumed that Bucky would have picked a different room. But he didn't. Bucky releases her just enough so that she can turn around. She stares up at him and makes a serious effort to smile, pushing her hands through his hair.

            "Why?" she whispers. She has asked Bucky, the doctor, her mother, her closest friends the same question more than once. Everyone else has started their families. Why can't she and Bucky start theirs?

            "I don't know," Bucky whispers, his eyes glazing over. She kisses him gently.

            "…I shouldn't have put that there. I'm sorry," he says again.

            "It's not your fault, James," she adds. He shrugs.

            "Maybe it _is_ …Steve and I are pretty much the same, physically, but he and Nat didn't have this problem."

            "That's because it's me," Cherise admits. She has said this to Bucky several times in their failure. It had upset him every time. The one thing they want most they can't have.

            "You don't know that—"

            "I do," Cherise interrupts, nodding, "The doctors are wrong. If there's nothing wrong with me, why can't we…?" She turns around again to grip the crib. Bucky sighs, placing his hands on her shoulders.

            "We should try again."

            "What's the point, hoping for nothing?"

            "Don't say it like that…we have other options, Cherry—the way that technology is these days—we have so many options…why don't you want to try them?"

            "I told you, James. I'm tired of hearing that everything's fine, that everything should be _working_ , and it _doesn't_ ," she says, finishing with audible frustration. He sighs, remembering how upset Cherise had been when in vitro failed. She didn't leave the house for two weeks straight, barely got out of bed. He feels a sense of loss, not knowing what else to do. So he pulls her into his arms. Cherise sighs with some irritation.

            "James, I'm tired…I just want to sleep. I don't feel like going through this again, not now," she breathes. He finds himself wishing even more that he had just put the damn crib in a different room. He leans his head against Cherise's before kissing her neck.

            "But I miss you," he admits, speaking into her ear. She stops gripping the crib so hard and the anger subsides a bit when Bucky kisses her neck again. She leans back into him a little bit as he continues there.

            "It doesn't have to be about this," he adds, placing his shiny fingers atop Cherise's on the rail of the crib.

            "Not tonight," he adds, sighing into her skin. A moment passes before she makes up her mind and turns around to kiss him back. Before she knows it, Bucky has scooped her up off the floor to carry her to bed. His kisses are suffocating and messy, and she finds herself having to pull back a moment to cool down.

            "What's wrong?" Bucky breathes, gnawing at her jaw and pulling her underwear down. She places a hot hand upon his chest and he finally pauses to look down at her.

            "I…James is just down the hall," she whispers, as if the child can already hear. Bucky smiles, holding back a laugh before stepping out of the bed to close the door. But as he makes his way back, pulling his boxers off in the process, she tries to tell herself to make an effort to be quiet, something she finds extremely difficult to do when Bucky's touching her. He pushes her further into bed, creeping over her like some giant furnace, the heat of which she welcomes. Cherise doesn't blink before he grabs her by the waist, flipping her onto her stomach. She buries her face in the quilt as two hands grip her hips and she is pulled back into a kneeling position, her legs splaying either side of Bucky's.

            She listens to his hasty breathing and gasps when he dives inside her, moaning. He pauses and she feels the mattress sink where he leans down on his hands, sliding onto his elbows, his breath making contact with the top of her head. His taut stomach is warm against her back, and the bionic limb swoops beneath her to clutch her body even closer. Bucky angles his hips beneath her, bucking them repeatedly in short, sharp thrusts that keep Cherise gasping. His lips play at the nape of her neck for a while before he rests his chin atop her head and pins her hands to the quilt, slowing down to penetrate deeper. Cherise bites into the quilt when Bucky's flesh hand disappears between her legs, where he vigorously grazes her clit. She pulls her hand out from under his bionic grip to squeeze the fingers appreciatively as she nears climax. Before she knows it, her body vibrates and burns all over with euphoria. She lies trembling in pleasure beneath Bucky's body.

            He flips her over, entering her again to finish himself. She claws into his shoulders, sweat having formed on her brow. Her legs had begun to clamp against Bucky's sides as she continues convulsing in her orgasm. He cups Cherise's knees a moment, sending them in opposite directions to give himself adequate access. Cherise lifts her head to kiss Bucky, and he slows for a handful of seconds to enjoy her lips, until she falls back in exhaustion, his bionic palm cupping the back of her head. He finishes in a dozen more fervent thrusts. Bucky collapses gently atop her, catching his breath.

            "I missed you, too," Cherise admits, smoothing the hair out of Bucky's eyes. He kisses her chest before resting his face there. They end up falling asleep this way, unable to bother getting up to shower.

 

            Taking little James to school is like a dream come true as the boy walks between them, holding their hands, telling them stories. By the time Bucky stops in the garage at her job, Cherise hasn't gotten over how amazing that boy is. Bucky steps out of the car to open the door for her, and she steps out into his arms.

            "I love you, Bucky…I want you to always know that. Even if we never get to see our own child, I'm _so_ happy that I have you." He closes his eyes, pressing Cherise's hand to his cheek. He finds himself holding back tears, wishing it could have been _their_ son that they had just dropped at school that morning.

            "I know, Cherry. I love you, too. I thank God for giving you to me every single day."

Their kiss seems like an eternity when it's really only a handful of seconds. Bucky walks Cherise to the elevator, their hands clutching and not wanting to let go of each other. When the door opens, he kisses her temple.

            "Just let me know when you want me to pick you up, doll."

She steals another kiss from him, sticking her foot in the elevator door to stop it from closing. Bucky stands there, hands in his coat pockets, gazing at her with a sense of longing that makes her heart lurch pleasurably, until the elevator doors shut him out of sight. 

 

            Steve calls later that night while they're feeding James dinner. The boy blabbers excitedly on the phone to his dad, asking when he's coming back. Bucky and Cherise admire everything about the boy, his eagerness to talk and learn, even to try and help out around the house. He seems to want to be a part of everything. By Friday evening, Steve and Natasha are walking down the street just as Cherise and Bucky pull up in their driveway. Little James had fallen asleep on the ride home in the back seat, strapped into the car seat that Natasha had taken out of her car before she and Steve went on their trip. Natasha hurries across the street, eager to see her son, Steve smiling after her. Cherise sighs, staring in the rearview mirror at them. She doesn't want to give James back. Bucky grips her hand knowingly. She steps out, just as Steve makes it to the car and wraps her into a hug.

            "How was he? Please tell me he didn't give you guys any trouble." Cherise smiles, pulling a finger to her lips and opening the car door to show him and Natasha that James is asleep. Natasha grips Cherise's arm appreciatively a moment before starting into the car to unbuckle James. Bucky pulls the boy's backpack out of the car.

            "He was great," Cherise admits quietly. Natasha plants a kiss on James's forehead, leaving a glossy shade of pink. Steve gently rubs the makeup away.

            "I'll help get his things. You should go put him in bed," Steve suggests. Natasha thanks both Cherise and Bucky before starting across the street with the boy. Bucky hands Steve James's backpack.

            "He's really energetic, I'll give him that," Bucky grins, "I wonder which parent he got it from," he adds sarcastically. Bucky folds his arm around Cherise, who is still staring after Natasha walking back to hers and Steve's.

            "How was Puerto Rico?" Bucky asks.

            "Amazing. It was warm. Wish you two could have joined us. Listen, we really appreciate you guys taking care of him all week. You know you're welcome to have him whenever you want." The way that Steve says this lets Cherise know just how sorry he is that she and Bucky still don't have their own child. Cherise thanks him and starts for the door, not wanting to cry in front of Steve. She knows that he and Bucky are already talking about this when she makes it up to the room where they'd kept James during the week. She glances out the window to find Bucky looking rather upset, Steve clutching his shoulder before straight up hugging him. She fights the tears as she packs up James's stuff. She figures that she and Bucky are cursed.

 

            It's two months since Cherise and Bucky had kept James over for the week, and they had begun to try for a baby again. Cherise told herself not to stress about it. She and Bucky have gone from simply attending church and praying to considering adoption. But she hopes that it won't come to this. On a Tuesday morning, she's making her way up from the forensics lab when the elevator stops out of the blue. The lights even shut off, but thankfully, the sun is out, and Cherise can still see everything through the glass walls. She sighs, however, knowing that after five minutes, she's going to be late for her meeting. She talks through the small speaker in the elevator with the tech team, who seem to have experienced a power outage in certain parts of the building. They tell her after another five minutes that it may be an hour before they're able to get her out of the elevator. Cherise thinks to call Steve. Maybe he could get the job done faster.

            As she begins to search through her contacts, however, her head rushes and her vision blurs. She feels her head smack against a metal bar somewhere on one of the walls as she falls to the floor unconscious…The sound of something moving forcibly meets her ears.

            "Reese?!" Steve's voice echoes in Cherise's ears. She tries to open her eyes, feeling a strange wooziness that just makes her want to close them again.

            "Reese!" Steve calls again. His voice is coming from somewhere above. She opens one eye to realize that she's lying on the floor of the elevator, her head throbbing. She catches a glimpse of the elevator doors, something red, white, and blue climbing down between them where they seem to be stuck halfway between the eleventh and twelfth floors.

            "…Steve?" she says weakly.

            "Cherise." Her vision is a little bit less blurry as he gets closer. Steve's warm hands scoop under her knees, behind her back, and as he lifts her effortlessly, she feels another wave of wooziness, groaning.

            "Get it going—now," he calls up to someone, "I need to get her to the infirmary. Have someone waiting when I arrive." A handful of seconds later, the elevator starts to move.

            "What happened?" Steve asks, his voice full of the same concern that Cherise remembers being there when they were married.

            "I…Elevator stopped," she mumbles, "I passed out." She keeps her eyes closed, the light that turns back on bothering them as Steve carries her quickly out into a hall. He brings her to a room and lays her on a bed. She remains conscious as a doctor checks her out, takes care of the aching bruise on her head. Steve waits in the hall as the doctor makes her assessment. Cherise admits to not having eaten breakfast that morning, but when the doctor comes back into the room to close the door, she knows that a missed breakfast must not be part of the diagnosis.

            "Mrs. Barnes."

Cherise had stood up.

            "What's wrong with me?" she asks desperately.

            "Nothing is wrong. Did you know you were pregnant?"

Cherise sits down, unable to believe her ears.

            "Are you… _sure_?" she asks with wide eyes.

            "Absolutely. I checked your urine sample, the test was positive. We can do a sonogram to get an idea of how many months."

Cherise finds herself unable to wait to get home and tell Bucky. She can't tell him over the phone—she wants to see his face. Tears of joy stream out of her eyes.

            "Are you alright, Mrs. Barnes?"

All she can do is nod, wondering why this has taken so long. When she finally walks out of the room, Steve stands up from where he'd been sitting. Cherise can tell that he hadn't moved the entire time the doctor was checking on her.

            "My god, are you alright?" he asks, clutching her hand. She nods.

            "I was…just dehydrated, and I haven't eaten all day. Stupid, I know," she lies. She wants to be the first to tell Bucky the news. She hugs Steve gratefully.

            "I came in and was told that one of the elevators was down. We were supposed to have a meeting at three, and when you never showed up to the conference room and they couldn't reach you over the intercom, I figured you might have been stuck in that elevator," Steve explains. The Captain's capacity to care is forever present. Cherise smiles, hugging him again and thanking him before explaining that she wants to go home early. Steve insists, and even asks whether she'd prefer it if he drives her, since she had hit her head when she fell. It takes a moment to convince him that she can take herself, and Cherise is thankful when Natasha arrives to distract him with paperwork. Cherise texts Bucky on her way to the car, telling him to meet her at home immediately. Just as she starts her keys in the ignition, he texts her back: _In meeting. Are you okay? You should never skip breakfast._ And she laughs, knowing that Steve had already informed him of the elevator incident.

 

            When Bucky finally steps through the front door, the first thing he does is call for Cherise. Bob makes it to him first, tail wagging. Cherise hurries out of the kitchen to greet Bucky. He drops his briefcase by the door, his wide eyes slowly subsiding from the fear that had been there the entire time he was driving home, wondering what was so urgent that she had to call him out of a meeting to talk.

            "Why did you skip breakfast? You could have died in that elevator if Steve hadn't—" Cherise jumps up onto him and he catches her, and she shuts him up with a kiss. He allows the gesture for about two seconds before pulling back.

            "I'm serious—"

            "I'm pregnant."

As the words sink in, Bucky's eyes widen again. He stares down at Cherise in disbelief, and for a moment, she feels his hands falter. He hastens not to drop her. She nods, unable to contain herself. Bucky starts a few paces down the hall before stopping.

            "Cherry…?"

            "I am, James. I am," she says, kissing all over his face and head. He smiles.

            "How far along?" he asks.

            "Well, the doctor at work said a little over two months. I couldn't believe it, either, Bucky." He starts to laugh, unable to contain his joy, twirling Cherise in circles a moment. They stand in the hall and kiss like love-struck fools. Shortly, they find themselves wanting to tell everyone, setting up a new room again. They leave the twin bed in the room they had already set up for Steve and Natasha's son, expecting him to spend many nights in the future. They enjoyed having the boy around. Cherise finds herself growing nauseous as the pregnancy continues, until she reaches her sixth month and catches the flu, landing herself in the hospital. Cherise had found it difficult to keep anything down enough as it was, dealing with constant nausea. She closes her eyes and leans back in the adjustable bed, soap operas the only thing available on the small television that juts off the wall. The nausea seems only to subside a smidgeon when she's lying back.

Bucky makes it to the hospital with food for Cherise and bumps into Steve at the front desk, who appears to have taken time off during his lunch break to come and visit her. On their way, Bucky explains the problems Cherise has been having. Steve eyes the bag in Bucky's hand and grins.

            "You should have brought her roast beef. She could still eat that when she's not feeling the best. It's always been her favourite."

Bucky smiles, "I know. That's exactly what I got. A Caesar salad, too." Steve follows Bucky to a room where Cherise is in bed. She groans, turning to the door to find Bucky walking in. He hugs her when he's near enough, before pulling the bed table up to start unwrapping the food.

            "How do you feel?" he asks.

            "The same," she sighs. She smiles and appears happy to see him, regardless of how she feels. She looks gaunt, except for her full belly at six months pregnant. She smells the food almost as soon as Bucky had walked into the room with it. The expression on her face when she sniffs is one of discomfort, and she closes her eyes a moment.

            "Hey, Steve. You didn't have to drive all the way down here just to see me," she says, grinning weakly, "They're taking good care of me here." Cherise's hands disappear beneath the white blanket to cup her stomach.

            "Come on, Reese, everyone in your department is worried sick. You rarely miss a day of work. I had to come make sure you were alright." He approaches and sits on the bedside to give her a hug. Even the simple motion of sitting up seems to be difficult for her. She laughs anyway and wraps her arms around him.

            "Don't get too close, I don't want to get you sick," she says, her voice hoarse with the discomfort of a sore throat. Steve stands up and she groans again, leaning back. Bucky sits beside her, offering the sandwich.

            "Thank you, honey. But I don't want it," she says, "I know you're not supposed to be bringing me anything that they don't make here, anyway."

            "Come on, Cherry. I know you don't even like the food here," Bucky says, grinning. She shakes her head, pushing his hand back when he tries to give her the sandwich.

            "Remember the doctor said the fluids aren't enough? Just try to eat half the sandwich," Bucky encourages, unwrapping it further. She covers her eyes and sighs with frustration, frowning.    

            "James, please—I seriously cannot keep _anything_ down."

            "The doctor said it's good if you can still eat and keep _something_ down for at least half an hour—"

            "I can't."

Steve has never seen her so powerless. Bucky sighs.

            "You'd better eat that sandwich, before I do," Steve jokes, "I missed lunch today." His attempt to help Bucky out gets Cherise to smile. Her hands fall from covering her eyes to covering her mouth. She sighs again before shaking her head, staring at the food.

            "Bucky, _please_. Get that food out of here. The smell is gonna make me…" She closes her eyes, wretches a moment (at which point, Bucky practically dives for the bucket that had been left by the bed, holding it up), and shakes her head, seemingly trying to keep from vomiting yet again. After a moment, he puts the bucket back down and hands the sandwich to Cherise and she stares at it a handful of seconds before wrapping it up and putting it back in the bag. Bucky looks disappointed.

            "Don't look at me like that," Cherise says, almost angrily, "Give it to Steve. He'll eat it. I _can't_."

            "I was just joking, Cher…you look halfway dead. I think you should have it," Steve admits. She covers her eyes again, and then she starts crying. Bucky rubs her shoulder lovingly and Steve takes it as a cue to excuse himself. However, he leaves the room slowly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thinking to call Natasha for advice. On his way, he can hear Bucky and Cherise talking.

            "Cherry, if you don't start eating more, we could lose the baby—she could starve...I know that's not what you want." Bucky's voice is soft and desperate, and Steve finds himself wondering whether she would have been going through such a difficult pregnancy if it had been with him instead, nearly four years prior. He finds himself hoping heavily that Natasha might be able to coax Cherise to eat. It upsets him to watch both her and Bucky suffer so much. Natasha didn't seem to have such difficulty carrying James.

            "Of _course_ I don't want that, Bucky… _I can't eat. Everything_ hurts my stomach _,_ " Cherise explains brokenly.

            "Then just have _one_ bite. Just one, and I promise I'll throw it all away."

Steve listens to the phone ringing and walks further down the hall where he can't hear his friends struggling.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long for me to get back to. And it really shouldn't have, considering how short this final chapter is. It's sappy and fluffy, but that's the way that my mind was working. I just wanted a happy ending. And again, this is the longest story I've ever written. I'm not sure why. Collectively, I've written well over three-hundred pages over the years--things aside from Marvel fanfiction, some of which I have never shared. I was feeling a lot of inspiration in the beginning and this is where it ends.

            "I'm gonna need a favor," Steve says, leaning against the wall by the elevator.

            "I know—I'm picking James up today—"

            "Not that. I mean, I still need you to get him and I'll go to the meeting. Look, I'm visiting Reese in the hospital now, ran into Bucky—"

            "How is she?" Natasha interrupts. Without seeing Natasha's face, Steve can feel the concern there. He sighs.

            "Not good, Nat. She's pretty sick. Hasn't been able to keep much down, has the flu…"

            "She's been throwing up a lot _without_ the flu," Natasha adds, recalling their failed attempt at a dinner date a few weeks prior.

            "She shouldn't still be that nauseous this far along."

            "I know. That's what I thought. Not at this stage. Anyway, I was hoping you could try and drop by, maybe tomorrow. Do something to cheer her up…I don't think I've ever seen Bucky this worried. They could lose this baby, Nat." Natasha is quiet on the other end, "I mean, that's what it sounded like Bucky's worried about."

            "They've been trying for _so_ long…this can't be happening. Okay, I'll see what I can do. If you watch James tomorrow night, I'll come over, bring some DVDs, Cher's favourite sweets," Natasha promises.

            "Thank you," Steve sighs. He just wants both Cherise and Bucky to know that he and Natasha are there for them, especially if the worst were to happen.

            "…You okay, Steve?" Natasha asks, "If Bucky's that concerned, you should just stay and I'll cancel the meeting—"

            "No. I'm about to leave. I think they just need each other for a little bit."

            "Okay."

When Steve starts back down the hall, he no longer hears Cherise crying. She's talking now, however her voice is not as steady as it had been the first time he walked into the room.

            "But she hasn't been kicking—I haven't felt her all day," she admits.

            "She's sleeping, because you should be sleeping, too. The less you rest, the harder it's going to be to recover," Bucky reassures. Steve listens to the sound of Bucky kissing Cherise before walking back into the room to find his lips still pressed to her forehead, his metal hand resting on her stomach. Bucky's eyes are closed. He doesn't look over at Steve until Cherise turns her head. Bucky's eyes widen.

            "Ah, there she is," he says, placing his other hand on Cherise's stomach where their child must have kicked. Cherise smiles before speaking to Steve.

            "I'm sorry," she breathes, "I hate for you to see me like this."

            "Reese, you're going to be fine. You're young, you're healthy. I'm sure you'll bounce right back, and my niece will be a perfect little angel."

Bucky grins, standing to walk back over to Steve.

            "Come on, guys, she's got both your genes. She's really strong."

            "Thanks, Steve."

            "I was on my way back to the office, but if there's anything else I can do, don't hesitate to call me or Nat. We're here for you guys."

Cherise nods, having laid back in bed to concentrate on her daughter's movements.

            "Steve," Bucky starts, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You're amazing. Thank you."

 

            When Natasha shows up the following day with ice cream sandwiches, Cherise finds herself unable to resist having at least _one_. Natasha sits beside Cherise in her hospital bed and they watch a TV show that Natasha has on DVD. Cherise finds herself actually feeling a lot better after eating the sugar. Perhaps it's exactly what she needed. Bucky had gone to work, but she knows he'll drop by later on.

            "I mean, the doctor said I shouldn't be contagious at this point, so I'm hoping I'll be out of here soon."

            "Well, I'm glad to hear it. Steve sounded really worried about you," Natasha admits, while changing the DVD in her laptop.

            "He was?" Cherise asks, feeling somewhat surprised, despite knowing that Steve has _never_ stopped caring for her, even after their divorce.

            "Yeah, of course. We were _all_ worried about you," Natasha adds, making eye contact.

            "Look, we know how long you and Bucky have been going down this road. We just want to make sure you guys feel supported." Cherise's heart skips a beat.

            "Thank you, Nat."

The redhead grips Cherise's wrist a moment. Cherise finds herself wondering what life would have been like if she'd stayed married to Steve. For the first time in a very long time, she actually feels as if things have played out the way they were _supposed_ to…

 

            Leaving the hospital is a relief. And when Bucky leads Cherise through the front door, a storm of confetti is thrown in the air, momentarily blinding her. The surprise baby shower _does_ take Cherise by surprise, and she smiles upon seeing Sam and Kate with their child, Steve, Natasha, little James, Cherise's parents, Agent Hill, Tony, Pepper, and even Fury, among a few other guests. Bucky pulls Cherise into his arms and she's unable to stop smiling, even as he kisses her. She never would have foreseen this months ago, never would have believed that this day would be possible. Bucky stays attached at her hip for most of the party, unable to stop kissing her cheeks or feeling her stomach in the hopes that their daughter is testing her legs.

            "Uncle Bucky, why do you keep rubbing Auntie Reese's tummy?" James asks. Natasha laughs and pushes her hand through James's hair as he starts over to Cherise and Bucky on the couch.

            "Come here, buddy," Bucky grins, waving the boy over, "Say hi to your little cousin. I think she's wide awake." When little James presses his small hands where Bucky's had been resting, his eyes widening and jaw dropping, no one can keep from laughing. Cherise feels as if she's living a dream, and she hopes that if it's only a dream, she'll never wake up. Steve and Natasha stay to help clean up the mess after the party, Bucky refusing to let Cherise lift a finger. When she lies beside Bucky that night, she can't remember being this happy. She stares over at the rippling muscles that make up Bucky's abdomen, his cut hip exposed just above the quilt, wishing her stomach wasn't so big that it stopped them from getting closer. His ocean eyes are plastered to her protruding navel, where his metallic thumb brushes her lightly. He smiles and she cups his cheek.

            "How are you feeling?" he asks, drawing a hand over her hip.

            "Really good. The nausea is basically gone. I guess I was sicker than I thought."

            "And Christina?" he asks. Cherise's heart lurches oddly a moment.

            "…What?"

            "The baby," Bucky clarifies, averting his gaze to meet her eyes.

            "What'd you call her?" Cherise asks, sitting up on her elbow.

            "Christina…you don't like it," Bucky finishes, frowning, sitting up on his elbow to meet Cherise. She closes her eyes a long moment, during which time, Bucky kisses her.

            "No. That's not it," Cherise grins, "Did we talk about that name? I don't remember."

            "No. We came up with that list, remember?"

Cherise opens her eyes to watch Bucky turn and pull a pad of paper out of the night stand drawer. They had been keeping names on that list, thinking of a handful each night, and writing them down before going to sleep. Bucky flips through the list, the lamp light glaring off his shiny fingers.

            "Uh…nope. No Christina," he says. Cherise laughs.

            " _No_ ," he whines, "I was hoping you'd like it," he admits, "I thought of it while you were in the hospital."

            "I do like it," Cherise reassures, rubbing Bucky's arm. An eerie feeling had creeped through her when he'd mentioned the name. Cherise recalls lying in bed with the Captain and asking him what he'd name their daughter if they ended up having a girl. That felt like decades ago, when really, it wasn't.

            "If you like the name, then I like the name," Cherise adds. Bucky places the list down to grip her.

            "Are you sure, or are you just trying not to hurt my feelings?" he asks half jokingly. Cherise crawls into Bucky's lap. He grips her hips.

            "No. I like it, James. It's a beautiful name." Cherise cups Bucky's cleft, brushes her thumb over it. She kisses him and he smiles.

            "Did you come up with it on your own?" she asks genuinely. She wonders whether he'd discussed the name with Steve. Bucky looks away almost uneasily.

            "James?" she asks, feeling concern. He grins shortly.

            "Yeah. I did…I mean…I was orphaned pretty young. I used to…imagine what my parents would be like, you know? …And for some reason, I always thought my mother's name would be Christina…I dunno. I just liked that name for a woman. And I've been thinking so hard about what we're gonna call our daughter, and it just hit me the other night…but if you don't like it, we don't have to call her that—"

            "No. No, James. It's _perfect_. I love it," Cherise reassures him, kissing his forehead.

            "I love you, Bucky," she says, feeling the need to swaddle him in all of her care.

            "I know," he says, rubbing her back comfortingly.

            "Goddamn…I wish you weren't too big so we could have sex right now," he grumbles. Cherise laughs uncontrollably, Bucky following suit.

 

Three Years Later

            "Come on, sweet tooth, don't you want to build a sand castle with your cousin?" Bucky asks, picking the whining toddler off the blanket in the sand. She throws a popsicle stick, continuing to cry for another one. Cherise sighs, reaching into the cooler, knowing that the girl will not stop whining until she gets another popsicle.

            "Christina Natasha Barnes, this is the _last_ one you're eating before you have that sandwich," she says, "Do you hear me?" Cherise tries her best at a reprimanding tone as Bucky kneels back on the blanket, kissing the girl on the cheek. She reaches hastily for the blue freeze pop.

            "Say, 'Thank you, mommy,'" Bucky whispers. Christina mumbles the words before Bucky quickly tears the plastic open and the girl begins sucking the melting juice out. Bucky laughs, pulling off his sunglasses.

            "Stina, you have to eat your sandwich next, okay?" Bucky informs, pushing his hands through the girl's hair. Christina nods, plopping down before Bucky and staring up at him. She's minute in comparison, but Bucky handles her with such gentleness. He pulls her into his lap, sitting next to Cherise beneath their umbrella. Not far away, they spot James, who is now six, pretending to be an airplane as Steve carries him overhead in the sun, clouds passing by and momentarily shading everyone. Natasha is snapping pictures with her phone, and Sam and Kate are finally making it towards the picnic spot with their kid. Cherise feels a hand wrap around her waist, turning in time for Bucky to press his lips to hers. Christina's small hand falls atop her leg where she leans back into Bucky's chest, pacified by her popsicle.

            Cherise pulls her hand down Bucky's back, brushing the sand off of him. He had been lying in the sand moments prior, allowing Christina to attempt to bury him. Cherise smiles into Bucky's lips. A warm breeze whips past the trio, and Bucky secures his flesh arm around their daughter, who begins to hum a song absently. Cherise is thankful for the day, every day that she has had since marrying Steve. If she had not, perhaps she never would have met Bucky, and she would never have had this perfect day at the beach, surrounded by the ones she loves, content.


End file.
